Destiny of the Night
by MoonWhisperz
Summary: Night is a young, lost cat with nothing to live for. From kithood, Night has felt only bitterness and anger toward other forms of life. And suddenly, she finds herself surrounded by those who want to know why. And even more so, is the cat who ruffles her fur, the thing she knows that can never be. (Allegiances posted on my profile)
1. Prologue

_So, I think I'm going to redo this series, a lot differently. This story is old, and the facts are all wrong. And everything is too predictable. Night isn't meant to be so vulnerable and dependant on her sister's death and rebirth. To be honest, Day's rebirth is kind of stupid. Day's death symbolizes her loss of belief in other cats, which is weird that she trusted a strange cat in a strange tunnel. A cat that isn't actually evil in the slightest. I've been re-reading warriors lately, and I think I can do better. Night is meant to be as bitter as a cold winter's night; it was where I'd created her name, as cliché as it is. And I was very grammatically incorrect and naïve at the time. I believe seeing her beloved family in dreams should suffice, in this story._

_**Prologue**_

It was once told to us that the night was cruel, especially when the sky dropped gentle flakes of snow. But when told, not a soul had ever mentioned how cruel snowstorms were at night.

That was what I had decided as I witnessed my little sister die in a stormy night that cold Leafbare. Of course I knew well that it was not the cold that had killed my sister, but the starvation that had plagued us both.

Day was not a hunter, nor was I. Both of us were hardly old enough to stop suckling from our mother's belly. But our mother was dead. And now I used my sharp nose to detect food that wasn't near good to eat, but was enough to keep us going another day. At least, that was what I'd thought.

Now, as I left my sister's still warm body lying in the snow, I couldn't help doubting who I was. What I was doing, even fighting off an end that loomed over my young kit head. I never once looked back at the small white body.

Hatred began to boil in my small body, bitterness as sharp as ice. My short fur fluffed against the sharp wind as it buffeted my fur. That was when I decided. I had no need for any other cat. I didn't need any cat to lean on. This was my fate.

_This is only a short prologue to get myself started. It is meant to show a moment of thought belonging to Night as she thought of how she'd reacted at the time of her sister's death. The death may have been changed too, as will a lot of what will happen. I've grown a lot since I started writing about Night. And any that have read and waited before for writing Destiny of the Night, you know well how I keep to writing at an even amount of time. Sadly, I cannot promise a much steadier pace. I can only claim that I will try. I am a French immersion student in high school, so I'm not sure how much I'll get in my free time. But either way, wish me luck!_


	2. Chapter 1

_Another note, for those of you who have already read the original, I fear there may be similarities. You all know what happens with Night from book 1 to 2, and I do want to use some of the same storylines. But not nearly as soft as before. I hope this is more enjoyable. I'm planning on deleting the original, I figured for those who haven't already read it, they'd like a chance to experience it without all the crappiness of before :P_

**Chapter 1**

The stones were sharp beneath her pads, and Night reached down to lick the scratches. She flinched as it stung. The warm air pressed into her black fur in the small cave, stifling her breath as if it were sucking it out. If Night were not used to the thickness of the air, she would have found it disorienting. But instead, this cave had been her refuge for at least a moon or two. The heat of the sun was foreign to her, and she often hid during the day.

She was not scared, of course she wasn't. Night was only disgruntled. She knew exactly what the sun was, exactly why it was there, and how little it could do to actually harm her. There was nothing to harm her, nothing to scare her. It was just a prospect of interference, to her. The sun was a reminder of what she'd lost, not so long ago. The idea of it caused her lips to curl.

She could smell a fresh scent wafting from behind her, where the outside world resided. It was the scent of grass, and leaves. She'd felt them velvet beneath her pads, and the gentle caress across her fur. The leaves were actually more of a comfort than the bare twigs of leafbare, which had scratched viciously at her ears, and tugged out her fur.

She didn't find herself enjoying the promise of life; she never thought she would in the first place. Night had little respect for any of it. The sound of small creatures scurrying in the undergrowth made her long to hiss, to thrash. She always felt her fur fluff up at the sound of movement. It was this way for a long time.

She sighed, and stopped licking her sore pads, before dropping to a crouch on the cave floor. Below her was a small collection of the grass and leaves she'd found outside to give her a more comfortable slumber. Night didn't care much for comfort, either, but it was nice for her stiff muscles. Being inactive during the late newleaf and early greenleaf had definitely taken its toll.

Night never enjoyed her sleep. It was filled with dreams of dead cats she wished she could forget. Like others, Night's dreams were very clear. She could see snowy landscapes, never anything else, with her mother and sister hiding beneath the blueberry bush avoiding the harsh wind of leafbare. It was a sad beginning to her life, but Night only really recalled it as she slept. When her eyes were open, the gentle breeze of night swept into her cave, and she was ready to look for some leftovers from the day hunters. She'd never think of anything but during her nightlong expeditions.

As Night began to close her eyes, she prayed for just one night, let her imagination give her a much different dream.

* * *

The small, fluffy she-kit squealed as she leapt onto a red and very dry leaf. Night stared at her, wishing she didn't have to, but she had no choice. The kit's amber eyes flashed dangerously as she dug her claws in. Night had no doubt that she was imagining the leaf was their dead beat father.

"Day, come back in here! It's much too cold!"

The small white kit froze as she played, then turned to Night with a glare. "You said you'd say when she was coming!"

Night shrugged, as if she could care less. Day growled, her shoulders squaring aggressively. "Just you watch, Night! One day, you'll have no choice but to treat others with respect! You'll have to care for someone else! And every paw step you take in disdain will add to the amount of suffering you'll encounter. There's no happiness for the cold of heart!"

Night knew well that this was not how their relationship had worked when Day had been alive. The two had been as closely knit as branches to a tree. Day had supported Night completely, and Night did the same for Day. The two opposite sisters were as close as they could get. Even when their mother had died, they'd stuck together until Day had died. After Day was gone, Night had no need to show affection. That included to a dreamt up copy of her beloved sister.

Day turned sharply from Night, and stomped off to join her mother under the blueberry bush with her tail held high. Night sat a tail length from the gap in the branches, watching as her mother licked Day's fur in an attempt to warm the young kit. Day purred gently, enjoying the attention. This was something that had occurred; their mother was intent on licking the kits dozens of times a day. It had been a cruel leafbare, and their mother was not a young cat anymore. Her ability to give birth and care for strong healthy kits had diminished over time, and Day and Night had been very weak.

Night glanced sharply away then, angry at the sight. It was not something she needed to see again. But she knew she'd see it again. It happened every time she dreamed. Even the weather remained the same. Snow fell gently from the sky, and gusts of wind blew puffs of icy snow all around the clearing. Night loved snow, though. It was something she felt was the only thing that remained that she had a true connection to. The swirling of the off white mist fascinated her, as it always did. It was the only part of her dreams she liked, seeing something so cold and calming.

A light snoring announced that Day was sleeping, and Night knew that shortly Naïve would join the kit in comfortable sleep, without even acknowledging Night's presence. It was a common occurrence. Naïve had only ever given Night a short glance before tending to Day, as if there was no reason to give Night any attention. It used to make Night delirious, and her dreams would end with her spitting angrily at her mother for ignoring her, but Naïve had never replied. But after a time, Night discovered that if she pretended she hadn't noticed her mother either, the dream would just end without conflict, ending just after Naïve was asleep.

And soon, Naïve's light breathing joined Day's. The harmonic sound was calming to Night, even if she didn't acknowledge it consciously. Her eyes began to droop, and she gently dropped to her paws, falling asleep in the cold air of snow.

_I will be posting the next chapter within the next hour; I'm in a serious writing mood :P_


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Night's ears pricked as she awaited the disappearance of the scratching sounds. It was easily a squirrel digging through its acorns. But Night did not desire to disturb the creature and alert any predator that could be hungry for cat. So she crouched carefully in the gentle leaves of greenleaf, hoping another animal did not get to the smell of rabbit remains first.

The squirrel continued its scratching, and Night's tail twitched with irritation. The tiny creature was taking too long, and Night knew that another hungry animal could easily take that rabbit without even caring about how the squirrel would react. If it were up to Night, squirrels would never have existed.

_How long has it been?_ Night sniffed the air carefully, hoping the scent of dawn had not entered the air. If it hadn't, Night had plenty of time to take the rabbit and store it with her other finds of the evening. And Night was lucky. The air still had the smell of damp soil from the watered air of the night. There was no such drying yet. That gave her plenty of time. _Hopefully, the rabbit has enough meat on it that my catch tonight will give me a few nights of peace!_

Her tail twitched excitedly, and she listened closely for sounds other than the squirrel. _Nothing._ She feared a fox or some night hunter would catch the rabbit scent. The foolish creatures would alert every animal in the woods if they were to get the rabbit. They would startle the squirrel.

Suddenly the squirrel stopped, as if it too had sensed something. Night froze, waiting. The squirrel began to scramble up a tree, its claws scraping the bark and it shot up, and Night let out a sigh of relief. _Finally!_

She gently began to crawl through the leaves, getting closer to the scent of rabbit. Off to the left, she heard the meowing of other cats from the vicinity. She was not concerned with them; they would not be after the rabbit. They prefer hunting their own food. Sometimes for the food, sometimes just for the thrill of the chase. They were strange cats, but probably a lot more normal than Night. They were very disgusting, though. There were three of them, although she'd never actually met them.

They smelled foul, as if they'd rolled in owl droppings. And when they hunted, their prey was scattered everywhere. Their respect for life was almost as dull as Night's own. They never stayed in one nest for more than 4 nights, and when they did stay for 4 nights, they did not even bother to change their moss. They slept in their own filth for a couple of nights before they moved on. It was why Night explored very little, fearing she'd run into one of their old nests they'd left somewhere.

They were talking in their abnormal accents again. They spoke as if they had a cold. Although cats who had gone through always sounded as if they had some sort of different cold. Night understood that cats from different places just sounded different. It was still puzzling to her, but she preferred to ponder on other things. She stalked closer to the rabbit.

"You'd think a mother would never leave something so helpless on its own"

"I know. I heard the poor scrap was less than 3 moons. Poor thing."

Night's ear twitched, but she continued to her prey. When she finally reached the rabbit, she sighed in disappointment. The rabbit was torn to pieces, thrown everywhere. She nosed a clump she found in front of her, and could smell another clump a few mouse lengths away. She assumed the whole of the tiny clearing was filled with chunks of rabbit. _Those stupid cats! If they're gonna leave this much lying around, why not leave it in one piece!_

_ "_How many kits were lost in leafbare?"

"I'd assume many, it was a harsh leafbare. I know Mayflower lost all of her kits. There was four, right? And Jayma lost 5 of her 6."

"I'm surprised that one even survived. It was the runt, firstly. And secondly, Jayma wasn't even getting enough food to produce enough milk for the runt, let alone the five average sized kits. All of them would've starved, if not for Moon."

Night grumbled as she ate what clumps she could find. _Might as well get something out of the wait. A full stomach, that way I don't have to eat what I have stored._ The pieces were slimy; they'd probably been there since sundown. But Night didn't care. As long as she didn't have to hear these cats again for another few nights.

"Moon only lost one, didn't she?"

"Oh, yes! Little Tiny! He was the runt, so it doesn't surprise me. Her other two, Dinko and Minx were fine. They're strong healthy young toms now."

"It was great of Moon to take in Chia. After Tiny, I'm sure Chia had lots of extra milk for the little she-cat."

"I heard Chia's almost as big as her mother now. Quite a size for someone who started off so small."

"Indeed. I wonder what had happened to those two pregnant she-cats who passed through, though. They were both pretty healthy, and looked like great friends. I'm sure they've managed to have healthy kits. What do you say, Dirt?"

"Maybe, but you can't be sure. It was a cruel leafbare. They could all be dead."

It took Night only a second to realize she'd been eavesdropping. It was a slap in the face to her to hear about the survival of those families over leafbare, but Night couldn't help her fascination with the conversation. _If we'd been born there, would you still be alive, Day?_

Night shook her head to expel her thoughts, before turning away. She'd lost her appetite; she couldn't eat anymore of the rabbit. It was great timing, too. The damp smell of soil began to dissipate and Night could feel the heat of sunrise on her hindquarters as she headed toward her cave. About a tree length away she stopped, and dug up her buried prey. There were a few pieces of squirrel and rabbit there, enough for the next night. She picked up as many pieces as she could and dragged them into the cave before going back for more.

When she stacked all of the prey into a pile, she began to push it further in with her nose. At the back of the cave, there was a small pool, Filled with cool water from somewhere in the earth. Beside it, separated by only a slim piece of rock, was a dip in the rock. It was the coolest section of the cave, and she figured if there was anywhere she could keep her food the freshest, it was here. Carefully, she pushed the pieces into the small hole, and covered it with a massive leaf.

She then turned to the pool, and took a few licks of the cool water. She hadn't had a drink since the morning before, and her mouth very parched. She filled her mouth with the delicious water and sighed as the water slipped into her stomach. She'd never imagined that greenleaf was so dry! It made her thirstier than anything had every made her. And just days before, she'd heard those three cats mention how greenleaf had hardly started and that this one was going to be all the more warm than any before.

If that was true, and this really was only the beginning of greenleaf, Night knew she's really hate this season. The warm stickiness was extremely uncomfortable, especially due to the color of her fur. She reached toward her back and began to clean her pelt.

Because of her night raid, her fur was littered with small twigs and pieces of leaves. Night spat out the debris before continuing. She hoped wetting her fur would cool her, but she also knew that later would be warmer, since it was only early in the morning. When she finished, she leaned down to take another drink from the pool. The water was delicious. And she drank enough so her mouth was far from dry, and then ran over her fur with her tongue another time.

Night stopped the cycle after a few minutes, giving up on keeping her fur wet. She could have dipped into the pool, but she didn't really like that idea, specifically because she didn't know how deep it went. She yawned, and turned toward her makeshift nest. She'd changed it before her hunt, and sank comfortably into the soft green leaves.

_At least tonight I can rest,_ she though as her eyes began to close. _No need to hear those foolish excuses of cats talk nonsense. _And she fell asleep and dreamt the same dream again.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Night awoke the next day, it was long before sunset. She muttered grumpily as she heaved herself to her paws, and trudged over to her makeshift fresh-kill pile. She didn't feel all that hungry, but she was still very thin from her leaf-bare of starvation, and she need desperately to strengthen herself long before it came again. She wouldn't be lucky when she was the only predator eating old prey.

Her dreams hadn't changed. Her irritation did not dull this time, though, as she chewed her food. She was angry. Angry at the persistent and torturous sights she was forced to endure over and over. They were dead, couldn't they stay that way?

She shook her head as she finished off her tiny pile, and turned to leave the small cave that was her haven. She had no need to rest there now, she was far angrier and awake then she'd been since she's arrived here. Her paws still ached when she remembered the moons of travelling she'd gone through just to get there. And she knew this wouldn't be where she remained in the end. She knew she'd go further. But for now, enjoying the return of her strength to the best of her ability, Night could allow herself a couple of days, or maybe another moon, here.

Night had little to look forward though, and she remembered a time when the world was at her tail tip, with her twin sister following behind.

* * *

"Night, does mother know what's wrong?"

Night shook her head gently, trying to dispel a creeping feeling that ran through her fur at the mention of her mother. Just yesterday Night had wanted to be so much like her cream colored mother, but now, she felt as if something was terribly wrong.

"What happened, anyway? Why do you think there's something wrong with your eyes?"

Night turned to look at her fluffy white sister, and shrugged. "I don't know, honestly. I just started being scared of my eyes. I think mother thinks I'm a mousebrain. There's nothing physically wrong with them, I think. I'm seeing just the same as I used to."

Day's small white shoulders slumped in relief. "But mother sure took it seriously, didn't she? She looked at you like she was infuriated with you, and then stalked off claiming to be hunting. We both know mother doesn't hunt. She collects crowfood."

Night shuddered at the word. "Yuck! I hope she doesn't expect us to eat that stuff one day!" Then Night's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Let's learn to hunt so when we have to feed ourselves we'll be ready!"

Day's eyes widened. "Night, what are you planning?"

"Let's show mother what real cats do. We're going on a hunting mission, Day. Over to the west path!"

Day's fur fluffed up in disdain. "The west path?! Are you insane, Night?! Those foxes would kill us in a heartbeat!"

Night grumbled in irritation. "So, you'd prefer crowfood to what the wondrous path has to offer, Day?"

"Of course not!" Day shuddered in disgust. "I'd prefer just about anything to that load of dung!" The she sat delicately on her paws. "But Night, isn't there other places to hunt besides the west path? Why go to the most dangerous place in the little forest?"

Night purred in amusement. "Of course there is good hunting in other places, Day. Actually, most places are better than the west path. It's of high difficulty within the path's borders!"

Day look surprised as she sized up her sister. "Then why would we want to go there?"

Night's tail flicked as she gazed at her sister. Day was quite small compared to Night, whose muscles were stronger, and whose legs were longer. Night was by far the healthier of the two. But Day had a delicate beauty that would make her a jewel to the toms. It disgusted Night at the thought. But she stared most at the two golden eyes piercing through her own blue eyes, and knew that there was no one else as wise as her younger sister. Not her mother, nor any cat. It was as if being weak for Day was compensated by strength of the mind. Night would give her life for this kit. Although she hadn't realized how mousebrained she truly was.

"To train to be ready for the most difficult of circumstances, of course. We have to know how to hunt in leafbare, where food is hard to catch and predators would rip the fur from your hindquarters. Now, Day, do you wish to be the best hunter mother will ever see?"

Day looked skeptically at her sister. "I doubt there is anywhere as hard as that fox-trodden path, Night. Why would we need to prepare ourselves for something that we'll be unlikely to see again, once the warmth comes and mother moves us to cat city. Don't you want to stay alive long enough to get there?"

Night glanced to her paws, thinking. Then, she turned back to her sister, her eyes flashing. "Honestly, no. I'm not some alley cat!" She turned and leapt up on a nearby rock to look down on her smaller sister. "I am a leader, not a follower! I don't need twoleg wastes as my dinner, nor do I need their garbage bins to sleep in. I was born beneath the trees!" She looked day straight into her unwavering amber eyes. "I would trust that even someone as small as you would realize how small a life that would be. So many cats! But here, we can rule! There are no other cats, Day. There's challenge! We can see far beyond twoleg walls and fences! Mother doesn't say the place is great, only that there is security. I don't want security! I want somewhere that feels like home!"

Day didn't even flinch under her sister's penetrating gaze. She stared calmly into her black sister's deep blue eyes. "You think you can do it by yourself, Night?"

Night reeled back, as if she'd been clawed. "Of course not, Day! You would be by my side the whole time. I would hunt for us, and you would be my sidekick. We'd scare away all the foxes! Doesn't that sound like more of a life than that of garbage in a twoleg infested city?"

Day shook her head, no hesitation. "I'm not a thing like you, Night." She stood back onto her paws, and gave her sister a calm look. "Night is a powerful time, Night. You have quite a namesake. You have great power to hold yourself upon. But even the night ends, my sister. Don't go out with your heart as chilled as snow, please."

Night flinched at her sister's steady gaze, and watched as the small white she-kit turned and headed toward the bush they called home. She stood paralyzed for a long while after, considering. She knew what freedom would feel like, and wondered if the prey would be as tasty as she imagined it would. How the foxes' blood would feel running through her claws. The feeling of satisfaction of winning her first battle. And in the end, dying the most powerful cat that had ever lived.

But what Day had said startled her. "Heart as chilled as snow?" She repeated, confused. Night didn't intend to do anything truly malicious. She wanted to be a hero to cats, those who chose not to live in solitude at the very edges of twoleg civilization. Was her ambition so wrong?

"Night, come now! It is time for sleep!"

Night shook herself from her trance, and jumped to her feet. "Coming, mother! Wait up!" She ran toward her mother, but stopped just shy of her legs. She turned back to look at the rock she had just stood upon. She squinted her eyes, hoping to understand why it looked so different.

But a moment later, the rock returned to its normal form, and Night shrugged the strange vision off. Nothing more than my imagination, she though as she scrambled in after her mother. Curling up beside her sister, she couldn't help wishing that for just a few moments, Day could understand her mixed feelings.

* * *

He sprung from his nest, his breath gasping in long sharp pants as he strained to hear the world around him. Something had changed. Beside him, a she-cat stirred from her sleep.

"Jayfeather? Are you feeling alright?"

He swiveled his ears toward her voice, but said nothing. If only he could understand what he'd seen.

"Jayfeather, would you like me to get Lionblaze?

Jayfeather turned blindly to the she-cat beside him, and sighed. "That would be great, Briarlight. Be careful, though. You seem a bit stiff now."

Briarlight sniffed indignantly. "I'll be fine, just need some more exercise. I'll go get him for you."

Jayfeather heard the rustling of her crawling from her nest, and listened to her paws grapple furiously with the earth in order to propel herself out of the den. Warm air swirled gently into the den from the warm green leaf wind.

Jayfeather sighed again, and pointed his head upward as if he were looking at the stars. What are you telling me, StarClan? What do I need to know from something a small as what you're giving me?

Lionblaze thundered into the den then, his paws loud in his hurry. "Jayfeather, what is it?! Remnants of the dark forest cats?!"

Jayfeather turned to his littermate and shook his head. "No, it seems as if we have a new threat to our Clan now, one that StarClan seems to want to hide from us."

Lionblaze's fur ruffled in confusion. "What do you mean? Why would StarClan hide something?" He pressed his pelt into his brother's as he awaited a response. From somewhere outside, a hunting owl hooted in victory of its catch; probably some unexpecting mouse after some late night nuts.

"I don't know, Lionblaze, I don't know."

"What did you see?"

Jayfeather pressed further into his brother's warm fur, and breathed deeply. "_Two drowned of blue of eternal dark, and the feathers of grief that is scattered behind, is the mess that is made from those left behind. _That's what I found, anyway."

"A strange prophecy," Lionblaze breathed. He nuzzled his brother's cheek. "Any idea what it means?"

"Not a single clue."

Lionblaze sighed, and licked Jayfeather's ear. "If there is any cat who can figure it out, it's you, Jayfeather."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Night growled in satisfaction as she sniffed her lot gently. It wasn't all that much food, but it had been the most the mangy old cats had managed to leave in the past 7 nights. She was able to accurately predict that not only would she be free tomorrow night, but perhaps the night after as well.

Storage wasn't the problem, at this point. All pieces had been stuffed in her little hole next to the little pool in her cave. The pool was a little warmer now that the middle of greenleaf had begun, but Night chose not to let that bother her. She leaned down and rasped her tongue over the little pool a few times to quench her thirst. Even the nights were hot now, with little rain. She'd heard the strange cats grumble about drought and fire, but Night decided not to ponder such things, and continued her night to night life.

Light that had seeped in from the mouth of the cave grazed Night's fur in a blazing hot fury that made her squirm uncomfortably. It was past sunhigh now; she'd been looking for food past dawn, and had found herself dragging it back under a scorching heat that caused her to flatten her ears in irritation. But now, even at the back of her cave, she could not escape the evil rays of sun that scorched her pelt. Being by the pool was the best she could do, at this point.

But the pool was losing water, Night realized as she found herself leaning farther forward for her whiskers to graze the surface. She feared that soon, the pool would be completely gone. When that happened, Night decided it would be best to move on and find a new home to stay. Now, though, Night found leaving pointless, and began to lay beside the pool in the warmth of the afternoon.

* * *

Night woke up to a roaring sound in her ears. At first, she was confused. It was a sound unlike others she'd ever heard. She twitched her ears, and walked slowly to the entrance of her cave. Outside the air was thick, and smelled musty, dirty, and very old. The heat was dozens of times hotter than the sun had been when she'd fallen asleep. In the distance, she could hear the shrieking of many living creatures and their thundering paw steps running in terror.

Night tilted her head, feeling uncomfortable from the heat. What's going on? She wondered as she sniffed again. She could smell nothing except the unknown stench. She stopped sniffing, and began to cough as the strange thick air filled her lungs. It made her feel light headed.

"What kind of mousebrain are you! You're gonna get yourself killed!"

A cat threw itself into her face, shocking her. She could vaguely smell the thick disgusting smell through his fur, but at the same time knew that usually this cat was as disgusting as the rest. But now was covered by the unfamiliar scent.

"What are you talking about?"

The strange cat's tail twitched beside her foot, and he hissed in irritation. "Can't you see the fire, smell the fire?! For the love of all the mouse tails, can you even feel the heat?! We have to get out of here, now!"

The strange cat turned to leave, and Night wondered what he was talking about. "Fire?"

He stopped. "Fire, you know, blazing hot that can burn a cat to death?"

Night froze, shocked. Then, she sniffed the air again. The air was thicker now, and she coughed as it filled her lungs again.

"Come on, foxdung!"

Night stood, and began to run after the strange fleeing cat. Fire! Her mind screamed as she chased him. She mentally told herself that fires were dangerous as she ran coughing with her head reeling. She couldn't believe she couldn't sense the danger. She normally could.

The strange tom stooped abruptly, and turned to Night. "You know how to swim?"

Night shook her head. She didn't have a clue as to why the strange tom would choose now to ask that question when she could feel the heat of the fire gaining from behind. Suddenly, she felt his teeth sink into her scruff, and she began to flail and hiss viciously as he picked her up from the ground. Sadly, her small five moon old body had no effect on the strange tom, and she suddenly felt cool water as her legs submerged. She screeched in alarm, and stopped struggling.

Soon, she felt her body being lift from the water, but not from the tom. Another cat was sinking its teeth into her scruff and pulling her up before going to help the other cat. Night lay gasping desperately by the river, trying to calm her raging body.

"Was there any other cat over there?" the second cat asked the first in a velvet smooth voice.

"No, Fern; nothing."

Fern said nothing, but Night assumed she'd given the tom some kind of strange gesture. Fern walked up to Night, and picked her up again, before heading up what felt to Night as a steep slope. She heard the strange tom following behind. He was soon trudging by Fern's side.

"This little one here had no idea what was happening. She was at the mouth of a small cave, sniffing the air. Even a newborn kit could see fire and know it was dangerous! Why, she was staring straight at it!"

Fern grunted, letting the cat know she was listening. Night didn't react, her body aching from a sudden fatigue that left her feeling weak and vulnerable. She let herself hang limply from the she-cats jaws, and listened to the tom describe how big the fire was and how much of the forest it has ravaged.

Soon, Night smelled many cats, and Fern slipped down into a slope and into a tunnel, where she gently laid Night to the ground. "You should never have been over there, Fickle! But I'm sure this young kit has her life to thank you for."

Fickle hissed menacingly. "I didn't go over there for sport, Fern! The lost kit could've been over there!"

"And if you'd been here, you'd have known that little Meek had been found under a holly bush just a few fox lengths from where we're standing! Honestly, Fickle, do you know ay patience!"

Night yawned, and Fern's tail moved gently down her spine. "Must've been exhausting for this one, huh, Fickle? Where do you think her mother has gone?" Fern leaned down and licked Night's ears, and Night was far too tired to protest.

Fickle snorted. "No sign of any mother. If there isn't one, oh well. Besides, mustn't of been a good one, any mother knows well to teach a kit the danger of fire in greenleaf. Especially because our greenleaf is brief and hot. It will be this way for another half moon yet before the leaves begin to fall and leafbare is upon us again. No mother knows to leave a kit unattended, anyway."

Night felt a flare of need to defend her dead mother, but it soon faded as she realized she didn't really care to do so, in any case. Instead, she felt her body begin to curl in exhaustion.

Fickle gently padded over to stand beside Fern. "She didn't look as if she was awake long when I found her. She must be tired from the smoke inhalation. We'll have to get Moony to look at her, if he's even willing."

Fern hissed. "Have respect, Fickle! Moony is many seasons old, his ability to heal is diminishing. He's the only one hear who can do so, in any case. We need to respect him."

"Humph!" Fickle grumbled as he curled up close to Night. "I'm going to sleep now, Fern. I'm going to assume that kit will have trouble recovering from the smoke, so I guess we'll care for her the next few days. I'm going to sleep here with her. Do whatever you want."

Soon, in Night's half awake state, she could hear the gentle snoring of Fickle as he fell into deep sleep. Beside her, she heard Fern sigh gently. Night felt Fern's paw run gently down her spine, before lying tightly beside her. She laid her head next to Night's, and purred in amusement.

"Must be hard, trying to sleep with strangers, huh, young kit?"

Night flinched gently at the sound, surprised by the sudden, unannounced meow. Then, she shrugged. "Some."

Fern gently nudged the top of Night's head with her muzzle. "I've only met one other kit who dd not flinch in the face of fire. She didn't flinch because she couldn't feel anything. The heat of the fire went unfelt on her felt. But you seem to react fine to feeling. Why didn't you flinch, young kit."

Night hesitated. She had not had a conversation with any other cat for nearly three moons, the last being her sister. She had definitely not had a conversation about her handicap. "I didn't see."

Fern's body was still for a moment, only the movement of her breathing continued beside Night. "Was the light bright? I know it is very stunning for those who've first seen it. Of course the light would be overwhelming. Its blinding, for a little while."

"No," Night shook her head. "I have seen nothing for a long time. I stopped seeing anything a long time ago."

Fern stopped breathing for a moment. "So, you're really blind, then? You can't see anything?"

"Not a thing."

Fern relaxed into Night for a moment. "Do you know how old you are?"

"No, I don't keep track of time. All I know I was born in mid leafbare."

Fern thought for a moment. "You must be about 5 moons. The youngest of many kits that reside here at the moment. The youngest is Meek. He's about 6 moons now."

Night shrugged, knowing the information meant nothing to her. She closed her eyes, and listened to the other she-cat's breathing till she, like Fickle, was asleep.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Night shivered, the cold night air sweeping into the small cavern she curled in, trying to sleep. It was odd to her to try to sleep at night, after spending the past three and a half moons sleeping during the day. Beside her, Fickle slept soundly. It hadn't taken her long to figure out how much Fickle adored his sleep. Completely unlike Fern, who was actually his littermate. Fern was always ready to move, and was an excellent hunter, which made up for her brother's shortcomings.

Fern crawled steadily into the den, and the smell of fresh kill wafted into Night's nose. She raised her head, staring toward the scent of Fern. She heard Fern's purr of amusement.

"Yes, Night. I've got you some, too."

Night snorted. "I wasn't asking, you know. But if you want to give me some, go ahead. I'm not stopping you."

Fern snorted in reply as she dropped a plump vole at Night's paws, before taking her own mouse back to her nest. Night sniffed the vole, before taking a few ravenous bites. The warmth of the vole was soothing from the damp air, and Night sighed in comfort.

It had been half a moon since the two cats had taken Night in, after the fire destroyed the forest she had resided in. She felt no special connection to the cats in the abandoned twoleg town, but Night found it easy to rely on them for a short time. Fern was helping Night learn to hunt, evidently trying to accommodate to Night's lack of sight. They'd only started several sun rises before. Before that, Night had a hard time recovering from the smoke of the fire, and had refused to even utter a word to the strangers.

But once Night realized she needed someone to rely on till she could fend for herself, she let a few of her strong walls of hatred down. Fern hunts for Night most of the time, but Night mostly refuses their help, even now.

Once Night had fallen asleep the night of the fire, she hadn't woken up for two sunrises. She knew that Moony, their healer, had seen her once in that time, and had predicted she wouldn't wake up. Fickle had been ecstatic to tell the old healer he was a mousebrain and that Night had actually woken up.

The first piece of prey that Fern had dropped at Night's feet was a fat rabbit. Of course, Night was starving, she hadn't eaten in three days. But she didn't even bend down to sniff the fat piece of prey.

"I thought you might be hungry. So, this is the largest prey I could find, the fire killed a lot. I figured you'd need it more than I do."

Night hadn't replied, and put her head on her paws to go back to sleep. When she woke again, Fickle had been arguing with Fern over the prey Night refused to eat.

"She's not gonna eat it, Fern! Its gonna go to waste!"

"Nonsense!" Fern spat. "She just needs to feel up to it, is all."

Three days later, Fickle grudgingly took the rabbit out of the tunnel, after it had turned to crowfood. Fern replaced Night's nest.

By then, Night could barely sleep, due to the sharp pangs of hunger that ravaged her belly. And she couldn't get up to find some on her own, so the next time Fern dropped prey at her paws, she didn't hesitate to eat it.

It took Night several more days to even mutter a thank you to the she-cat, but Fern purred happily when she did. Later, Night heard Fern telling Fickle that Night had "made progress" in the recovery of the fire. Night would have spit angrily at the she cat if she hadn't been so sleepy. Her strength was being very slow at returning.

It wasn't until Fern had mentioned the idea of teaching Night to hunt that Night really started to talk to them. After that, Night's recovery was aided by Fern, while Fickle waited lazily around the tunnel, sleeping his life away.

In the 14 days Night had been there, she'd learned that the two were only four moons older than her, and that they'd been born at the very end of leaffall. They'd lost their brother and sister to the cold, and their mother was still around, but she hadn't connected to any cat since the death of the two kits.

Night finished up her vole, and curled up again to sleep. Since she'd gotten there, her dreams were silent, though they were still the same. Her sister and mother never looked at her, and all Night did was sit and watch them. It wasn't all that interesting, but at least it wasn't torturing her anymore. She'd calmed since she'd met Fern and Fickle, but didn't stop her vicious hatred.

She closed her eyes, and felt sleep begin to close on her.

* * *

"Jayfeather! Cinderheart's really thirsty! Can you get someone to get her some water?"

Jayfeather turned to his brother's voice, imagining the golden tom's look of terror. "Relax, Lionblaze. Her milk won't dry up before tonight."

"But-!" but Lionblaze knew better than to argue with Jayfeather, so he slumped on his hindquarters. Jayfeather felt the dust fly around the medicine cat den, and he sneezed as it entered his nose.

"Did you have a dream again, Jayfeather?"

Jayfeather shrugged. "I may have." Jayfeather had actually been having a difficult time sleeping. His dreams were disturbed by negative emotions that caused his fur to fluff up. His dreams were cold and desolate, and Jayfeather wished they'd stop. Whatever it was, it was cold, and filled with hate.

Lionblaze sighed. "Maybe you should talk to Bramblestar, it might be something he needs to know."

Jayfeather flinched, before calming himself to reply. "No, I shouldn't alarm him until I know what it means."

Jayfeather still felt the sting of their old leader, Firestar's, death as if it had happened only yesterday. But it had been a whole 6 moons ago now. Life had gone on in the clan, though lots feared the night shadows and jumped at the wailing in the trees. And Sandstorm had retired to the elders' den along with Dustpelt. They'd had a long life, but were very young compared to others in the elders' den.

Lionblaze murmured agreement. Then, Jayfeather felt Lionblaze burst with pride. "My kits opened their eyes this morning. Firekit has green eyes, just like Firestar. Cinderheart named her well."

Jayfeather snorted. "It's too bad Firekit's a she kit. It would've been better suited to a tom."

He could hear Lionblaze snort. "Well, she's a she, so, that's it. But she looks just like Firestar. It's a startling similarity. And Greenkit has my amber eyes. But Morningkit looks a lot like you, blue eyes, and gray fur. But I think her fur comes from Cinderheart. She definitely has your eyes, though."

Jayfeather snorted. "Let's hope she doesn't have my eyes, we don't need another blind medicine cat."

"Humph!" Lionblaze snorted, and shoved at his brother. "I'm sure she won't, and I doubt she'll have your attitude, either!"

"Hahah, let's hope she does!" Jayfeather purred in amusement, then listened as Hollyleaf padded in. "Hey, Hollyleaf!"

Lionblaze quickly turn to their sister. "Hollyleaf, my kits opened their eyes! Have you been so see them?!"

Hollyleaf purred in amusement. "I'm pretty sure you've told the whole clan by now, Lionblaze." She flicked his ear teasingly. "And yes, I've seen them. Blackkit looks like me, doesn't she? Has my eyes, too."

Lionblaze sucked in air, and Jayfeather could guess that Lionblaze was sticking out his chest proudly. "She does. I was just telling Jayfeather that Morningkit has his eyes." Then Lionblaze paused. "But, she _can_ see!" Jayfeather knew Lionlbaze put that there to add on to their earlier teasing, and Jayfeather pushed him playfully.

"So, I'm assuming you think Firekit looks like you, then?" Jayfeather mewed, as Hollyleaf purred at the amusing banter.

"Why, of course!"

"Hollyleaf, does she?"

Hollyleaf hesitated a moment, then mewed teasingly. "Nope, nothing like him!"

Lionblaze turned to Hollyleaf with a playful hiss. "Take that back, Hollyleaf!"

"Never!"

Lionblaze chased Hollyleaf from the den, leaving Jayfeather to himself. Then, Leafpool padded in, purring in amusement as she did. "You all act like Lionblaze's kits, if you ask me." She pushed herbs she'd brought in to Jayfeather's paws. "I found these at the edge of the territory on the border patrol. I thought that it'd be good to collect on them before leaffall starts. The weather is cooling already."

Jayfeather nodded his thanks, and sniffed them to determine that they were catmint. A very hard herb to find in ThunderClan territory. Then, he faced Leafpool again. "You know, no one would be opposed if you chose to be a medicine cat again. I'd be more than thankful for your help."

He knew Leafpool's answer before she even said it, but he felt he had to ask it anyway. "No, I don't think that is wise right now. I still feel as if it is wrong for me to do so." She sighed. "I do really miss it all, though."

"Maybe someday." Jayfeather mewed quietly, and he could feel Leafpool's agreement as she started to pad away again. He sighed, and went to put the catmint away. It would be a cold leafbare, he knew, from how greenleaf was ending. He just hoped he was prepared for it all.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Frost littered the ground, and Night flinched as the cold touched her raw pads. It had been a long night. She'd gone with Fern and Fickle to see how the small forest had improved since the fire a moon previous. Fern, who had just given birth to three healthy kits just 5 days earlier, was easier to tire out now, and Night couldn't help assuming she was weak. She didn't understand, nor did she even want to, the reason for mewling scraps of fur.

Fern had spent the whole night worrying over her little scraps, and Night was intensely irritated. As was Fickle, but he was quick to keep Night from springing on the older cat's back and ripping her to shreds. He leaned down constantly to remind Night that not only was she a mother, she was a new mother. It was natural for her to worry about her kits.

Night still refused to care, though. The scraps were only ruining the foundation Night had built with Fern, and she hated them.

Fickle loved them, though, even if he was annoyed at how persistently Fern spoke of them. This was why when he suggested leaving the kits with a queen he knew very well, Fern trusted him dearly and was able to leave them for one night, which they'd probably sleep through, in any case. Night couldn't understand their fascination with the little things.

The cold wind bit at Night's airs and she wondered where greenleaf had gone. It had been very brief, and already she felt crisp leaves crunching under her paws. She wondered how Fern would feel, raising her kits in such cold. She knew well how Fern would despise the idea; she'd lost two of her siblings, and her mother's sanity because of the cold. But Night didn't feel anything for her. To her, it was merely a cold truth fact. She felt no sympathy for the nursing queen.

Fickle was always hunting, now, and he was trying to teach Night as well, taking over Fern's position in the tunnel. Now Fern was the lazy one.

Night hadn't had a clue about Fern and her close to having kits. But of course, why would she? She couldn't have seen the bulging of the cat's stomach, and she hadn't been around a she-cat in many moons, so she wouldn't know if something was altered in her scent.

She blamed Fern for not having told her beforehand. The birth was a shock to Night. She grumbled irritably under her breath as she listened once again to Fern telling Fickle how much she worried about her kits' welfare.

There were three of them. Mellow, Tree, and Tangles. All three were toms. Night had been told what they looked like, but she hadn't bothered to remember.

They were just returning to the small cat community that contained their tunnel when a cat thundered its way toward them. Night recognized the scent immediately; it was Meek.

Meek stopped breathlessly in front of the trio, and Fern immediately concluded it was about her kits. "Meek! Are my kits ok? How are they? Are they hungry? Did the cold kill them? Please, no!"

Meek sighed, as if annoyed by listening to a queen about kits. Night understood the feeling. "No, Fern, it's not that."

Fern calmed immediately, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh. So what's the problem, Meek?"

"Moony, he passed away. It's my job to pass on the news to all the cats. We have to pay him our respects and bury him."

Fickle snorted, and Fern began to scold him. Night decided to take it from there. "So, how'd he die?"

Meek turned to Night, his breath coming quicker. "Well, uh, he, uh… He…"

"Oh, get on with it!" Night snarled, his stammering quickly irritating her.

She heard Meek flatten himself to the ground nervously. "He got sick, ate the wrong thing from twoleg trash bins."

Fickle snorted again, and continued before Fern could rebuke him again. "That doesn't shock me, figured he'd do it eventually."

Fern, instead of continuing to scold Fickle, spoke to Meek. You plan to replace him, don't you, Meek? You were great with the delivery of my kits."

Night heard Meek fidget nervously. "I do, actually. He taught me a lot before he passed. I hope to leave up to his expectations."

Fickle purred in amusement. "I hope you do a lot better than that, young Meek! He's hardly a cat to live up to. You can surpass the rotten old furball in no time."

Fern started to scold him again about respecting the dead, and Night began to speak to Meek again. "You won't go hide under a bush as soon as you see blood, right? Cause lots of cats will die if you do."

Meek hissed at Night. "Who are you to say that to me?! All you ever do is insult me! I'm older than you, you should respect me."

Night snorted, amused. "Respect _you_? You, who always cowers before _me_? You must have bees in your brain!"

"Night, that's enough!" Fern scolded, shoving Night away from Meek. "I'm sorry, Night has no respect for any cat. She has a tongue sharper than a mouse trap. Don't take what she says to heart."

Meek sighed, but Night could tell he was being over dramatic. "I guess you're right. Must come from having no family."

Meek began to walk away, but leaned to gloat in Night's ear. "Too bad, she's on my side. Maybe next time, Night."

Meek continued to tread away, but Night ran up to walk beside him. "I don't _need_ her on my side, you Foxdung! I don't need _any_ cat defending me!"

Meek stopped a moment, and turned to face Night again. "I think you do need someone, Night," he meowed sympathetically.

"I don't need your sympathy, either! _I _can take care of myself! I've done it for many moons! You can't say what I am saying, I know you can't. You're life is soft!"

He seemed to be staring at her, and Night wished he would just walk away like any cat would when she got mad at them. But instead, he just stood there.

"You're cold as ice, Night. But someday, you'll thaw, and you'll find yourself so dependent on another that all you'll be is a puddle that will disappear when the sun rises," he warned.

"Night, hurry up! I want to see how your hunting technique is going!"

Night's ear flicked toward the sound of Fickle's meow, but she made no move to go to him. Instead, she stared in Meek's direction. Meek sighed, and turned to leave. "You should go, Night. Its best you learn to hunt for yourself, if you're so determined to be alone."

Night's sightless gaze followed him until she no longer heard his paw steps, then she went to follow Fickle.

* * *

"Great catch!" Fickle purred as Night held the mouse in her jaws. Catching it was easy, once she knew what to be aware of. She stood silently, and showed no reaction to his praise. She had no reason to be proud of impressing someone like Fickle. The only cat Night wanted to impress was herself, and so far she wasn't reaching her goal.

"I could've done better," she meowed, after laying her catch at his feet. "You should bring that back to Fern, she probably wants something to eat, since she can't hunt for herself." She heard him sigh in dismay as he sniffed the piece of prey.

"Don't you want to show it off? It was a really good catch, especially for leaffall. And Fern would love for you to tell her all about it."

Night shook her head. "It's just a mouse. Besides, Fern has no reason to be proud of me, I'm not one of her kits." She turned away, and began to head back into the abandoned twoleg nest. "I'm going to catch some more for us to eat later. I'm assuming Fern will need a lot, she eats a lot now-a-days."

She left Fickle with the mouse and began to sniff around for some more. The old nest was cold and damp, with leaves scattered everywhere, making Night's hunt harder than she wanted it to. She couldn't see the leaves, or the floor boards sticking up in random places, so she tripped and crunched leaves enough to scare off plenty of prey. But she decided not to think about that as she slid back into a hunter's crouch. She knew that, maybe three tail lengths ahead of her, a mouse was chewing on a nut that had fallen into the house from the tree that hung above the hole in the roof.

She carefully calculated that it would probably be safer to jump for it, rather than stalk blindly and probably trip or step on a dead leaf. So she waited a few moments, preparing her muscles to pounce.

She bundles her hind legs, and pushed off, pouncing in the direction of the scraping sounds the mouse was making. Instead of pouncing perfectly close to the mouse, she slammed into the wall, and the mouse squeaked in terror. She cried in dismay as she heard it scurry off.

"You know, you could probably help me out, if you'd like. I'd pay you with a few mice, if you'd prefer that to simply helping those in need."

Night whirled to face the voice, growling. "What are you doing here, Meek? And why in the name of all living mice would I want to help you?"

She heard Meek move to come closer, and she hissed to warn him off. He decided to sit where he was, and she heard his big rump hit the creaky old floor. "Alright, fine, I know you wouldn't want to help me. I get it. But you need to eat more, and if you only eat what you earn, you'll end up starving to death. If you help me out, and I give you a few mice to eat, you'd be earning it, wouldn't you?"

"Humph!" She muttered. "Fickle wouldn't like that, he wants me to hunt."

"And when was there a cat who could tell _you_ what to do?"

Night shrugged. "Good point. But I need to catch one, anyway. It's a matter of pride."

She heard Meek sigh. "Alright, get on with it the. I will wait by the entrance with a few mice, in case you'd like to help me out in trade for them." She heard his paw step creak away, and she turned and padded further into the nest to see if she could scent another mouse.

Soon after, she heard another one pushing through what she figured were dead leaves up ahead, and she could smell where it was coming from. Slowly, trying to avoid fallen leaves or anything else that could disrupt her course of action, she began to stalk the mouse. As soon as she deemed herself close enough, she leapt. She caught it and killed it in a matter of seconds.

She sighed with relief that she hadn't messed up again, and headed back toward the entrance to see how Meek had done.

To her dismay, in the length of time it took her to get the one mouse, the moon older tom had managed to catch five plump ones, and a rat. She hissed at him as she put her puny mouse in his pile. "Alright," she growled, looking to where she believed his face was located. "How did a mousebrain like you catch that much?"

Meek hesitated for a second. "How about this. You help me out, and you can have everything I caught, and I'll take over your hunting training for Fickle so he can care for his sister. Deal?"

Night snorted in humorless amusement. "Now I definitely believe you have bees in your brain. Are you insane?! I have no desire to be trained by a cat who is supposed to be making herbs for cats since dumb old Moony died four nights ago."

"But even if I'm a pathetic healer, I still caught more prey than you did in less time than you."

Night had nothing to say. She felt defeated, as if everything she tried to do was going to end up pointless in the end, anyway. She sank to her belly, and put her head on her paws.

"Night? Are you ok?"

Night glared up at his voice. "Why should I bother?!" She leapt to her paws and shoved her face in front of his. "I can't do what even you can do! I'm blind! I should've died moons ago with my sister!"

Meek took a few paw steps back, and took a deep breath. "You're a strong cat, Night. I think you can do it. You're six moons old, an age where kits only just start hunting for themselves anyway. You have time."

Night took a deep breath, and sat down again. "I've tried already. I just don't care anymore." She paused for a brief moment. "Alright, what do you want my help with? If I'm gonna go down, might as well go down doing something."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Night found that even though Meek was merely a healer, he was actually a great teacher. He'd gone over dozens of times how to avoid hitting debris when she stalked her prey. He explained that using her nose was the best thing she had when hunting. So, a lot of hunting practice, Night spent learning scents, and less time digging her claws into live prey. At first, this had driven Night to a point where she was ready to snap his neck. Luckily, she found some self control, although she had no clue where.

"Ok, so how close do you think your nearest obstacle is?"

Night hissed, and spun to face the source of the voice. "How is this supposed to help me hunt?! I should've known better than to make a deal with _you_!_ You_, of all the cats around here!"

Meek sighed, and nudged her. "Just answer the question." He meowed in exasperation.

Night hissed, but spun back around and started sniffing, and reaching her paws out to see. "Uh… How am I supposed to know! I can't see it!"

"Ok, but the rest of your senses should accommodate your lost eye sight. Now, what does dying leaves smell like?"

Night rolled her eyes, but searched around the abandoned twoleg nest for a leaf. She smelled it before she touched it, and she brought it back to him and dropped it at his paws. "Why don't you tell me what it smells like, mousebrain?"

"Ok, you know what it smells like," he replied, giving no reaction to her sarcasm. "Now, I want you to go in a straight line without stepping on any leaves. Go until you are a whisker length away from the wall over… that way." He nudged her with his muzzle to tell her which way to go.

She sighed, slipped into her stalking position, and headed forward. Almost immediately she ran into a pile of leaves. She shrieked in dismay, and clawed all of the leaves to bits. Then, she turned to scowl at him. "You knew they were there, didn't you?!"

He purred in amusement. "Of course I did." Then he returned to being serious. "But you should have to."

She stared at him as if he were stupid. "And I've already told you, I'm blind, I can't see it. How many bees are actually in your brain?"

She heard him step closer, and she could hear a leaf crackling. He must have been carrying it in his mouth. He dropped it at her paws. "Now, what is the scent of the leaf?"

She sniffed at it irritably. "I can't describe it."

He then slipped something else at her paws, and she was shocked to smell a fresh leaf. She stared blindly at where she thought his face was. "Where'd you find that?! Its leaffall!"

He snorted. "One of the last few on the bushes outside. Now, If I were to ask you to find a dead leaf purely by scent, without stepping on it, could you do it?"

Night blinked, thinking. "Maybe… But I can't be sure. Why?"

"Because, that is your next task. Go find me a leaf by scent. A dead one, not an alive one, and you can't step on it. I will be following you to make sure you don't. If you succeed, I want you to try going across the room without stepping on a leaf again."

She sighed, annoyed at how bossy he was being. But she agreed, and began to sniff deeply. She headed in the direction of the door, so she wouldn't be near the pile she'd already stepped in. She could smell lots of them, but it was hard to distinguish one particularly. She stepped on one before she was three tail lengths away from where she'd been. She growled in frustration.

He came up beside her. "You're thinking about it too much," he meowed. Focus completely with your nose. Don't say 'oh better get this right so this stupid cat can shut his trap'. Do it because you really want to be able to get this leaf without stepping on any. Actually, I'll make it easier on you."

Meek ran back to where he was before, and came back with the fresh leaf again. The smell was a lot fresher than those of the dead ones. He went ahead, and placed the fresh leaf somewhere. Then he came to her side.

"Now, I want you to get the fresh leaf, without stepping on dead ones. Focus more on the dead leaves, but don't forget to keep some sort of thought on the fresh leaves."

Night sat down.

"Night, what are you doing?"

Night looked to her left, where his voice came from. "How am I supposed to do that? I'm trying to get the fresh leaf, right? I should be more focused on its smell!"

"Trust me," he purred in amusement. "Pay more attention to the dead leaves, than the fresh leaf. Just keep it in mind, is all."

Night sighed in irritation, and slipped into her stalking stance.

"Ok, first thing, your belly is too close to the ground."

Night whirled around to face him. "Am I doing everything wrong?! Do you have to criticize everything I do?! All I'm here for is you to make fun of me, aren't I?"

Meek sighed again. "No, I'm helping you!"

"Helping with what?!"

"You'll see when you're done," he meowed. "Now, go into your position, and I'll help you adjust it so that your stalking posture is better."

"Humph," she grumbled, as she slipped into her stalking posture. She felt him slip his head under her belly and push up, so her belly was halfway up from the floor. Then, he pushed her shoulders downward with his paws, leaving her rear end stuck into the air.

"What's this supposed to do for me?"

"Enough to avoid sliding your fur across the floor. Now, make sure your tail doesn't slide against the floor as you stalk forward. Just pull it close when you walk that's all. Now remember, use your nose."

Night grumbled again, but stayed in the position he put her into, and began to creep forward. She used her nose carefully as she glided across the floor. She stopped when she got right next to one, and realized that there was a space next to it for her to squeeze through without touching it. She continued winding through the leaves till her nose was just touching the fresh one. Excitement boiled in her belly and she was about to leap in joy.

"Wait! You still have to bring it back to me while avoiding the dead leaves. Remember, focus on the dead leaves!"

She twitched her ear to let him know she heard, and she gripped the fresh leaf in her mouth. Then, carefully, she turned around, and started to go back toward Meek, who made subtle noises as if to help her find her way back to him without having to use too much of her nose.

She was just a tail length from him when her tail hit a dead leaf and the crackling noise was deafening in the quiet space. "Foxdung!" she screeched, dropping the fresh leaf, ready to lose her temper. She felt Meek press his side against her own with a purr. She pulled away, growling. "Why are you so happy?! Is it because I failed?!"

Meek purred in amusement. "No, actually, the way back was only to give you extra practice. You passed as soon as you grasped the leaf in your jaws."

She froze, her rage suddenly failed. "You mean I really did it? I got somewhere without disturbing a leaf?"

"Well, you disturbed a leaf on the way back, but you had the prey already, so…"

"Wait a second," Night breathed. "You were teaching me how to creep up on a mouse without alerting it!"

"Yeah," Meek meowed. "I knew your whole jump to avoid disturbance didn't work, you crashed into a wall. And I knew you'd have trouble because you couldn't see obstacles. So, instead of focusing more on the prey, focus more on the surroundings. The prey isn't likely to go anywhere if unalarmed. And one day, you will be able to register all of it at one time, with practice."

Night's tail began to twitch excitedly. "Does that mean I can try hunting now?!"

Meek snorted. "With all that noise you made? All the mice are probably hiding. But I think we'd have practiced more anyway. For the next few days, I want you to continue with that exercise."

Night's jaw dropped angrily. "What?! That's not fair! I worked so hard today!"

"Yes, but you can do better. I want you to go without hitting debris for the next few days. I'll have dead prey, though, so it may be more of a distraction. First, you'll just have to fetch it. Then, we'll go over pouncing techniques, and then you'll try it on dead fresh-kill again. In a less than a half moon, you'll be ready to really start hunting."

"That's not-!"

"You're blind, Night," Meek interrupted in a soft murmur. "Life will never be easy for you. That's why we're going to do this now, so when things get hard in leafbare, you'll have more experience. So when you're older, you won't have a single problem when hunting to feed yourself. If we do this your way, you'll be struggling with hardships. You may not think it important now, but it is, and I'm here to make sure you do it right. You won't be here forever, you've already said that. Rely on me to teach you till you leave, so when you leave you'll have learned how to rely on yourself."

Night glared at him. "I don't need to rely on anybody."

"If so, then why don't you walk out of here right now? Don't let me teach you anymore. If you don't need me, then don't accept my help."

Night hesitated, shocked at how conflicted she felt. Not a single moment in her life had she felt like this. She realized that even when she wasn't so bitter, everyone had been so willing to give her anything she asked. If it wasn't for that, she'd have been prevented from her stupid mistake that day, and her mother would never have died. She sighed, and stared at Meek unseeingly for several moments.

"I'll allow you to teach me, but I will never truly _need_ you. Just know that. I will rely on your teaching, but beyond that, we are not friends, you mean nothing to me. And when I leave here, I will not even bother to remember your name. Is that clear for you?"

Meek purred in amusement again. "Fine by me. Though I doubt you'll ever forget me."

Night's eyes narrowed. "Oh, and why's that?"

"I've had too much impact on you," he meowed seriously. "I've made you question yourself, I've pushed you, and I've made you feel something besides hate. I've made you feel conflicted, frustrated, excited, proud, and all sorts of other things. I've made you leave you shell of strength, and have seen your weakness. No, in a mind like yours, you can never forget someone who knows you inside out. You'll never escape the knowledge that I have known and impacted you, you can be sure of that."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Night caught her first mouse using the new technique, she was ecstatic. At just days away from reaching 7 moons, the cold of leaffall had faded off. When Night had asked, the cats had told her how unpredictable the weather was there. Fern was especially greatful for the sudden warmth.

Her kits now had their eyes open, and were itching to run and play. They were a moon old already. Night still didn't like them, and they strayed away from her when they could. Fern didn't like it, but she also didn't expect Night to thaw to any cat, so she was grateful about Meek, too.

Meek was around constantly since he began teaching her to hunt, and Fern was awaiting a sort of romance between the young cats. But to her dismay, the obvious affection Meek showed toward Night was thwarted by her cold, hateful demeanor. She was kinder to Meek, Fern, and Fickle than she was to any other cat, but she still showed no love toward any of them. It made Fern sad for the young she-cat.

Night brought home that Night enough prey for two days, which she stood proudly with her chest stuck out. Meek helped carry it, but he knew that he hadn't caught any. He'd spent the same length of time reviewing the herbs he'd gathered to prepare for the cold that was sure to come in a moon or so. The mini leaffall just past greenleaf proved that. But already buds were returning to the trees, and the air was warm again with the smell of life.

Night sighed as she put her prey near the back of their tunnel, and turned to Fern. "That's good enough, right?"

Fern hesitated a moment. "Yes, although that's quite a lot for three cats."

Night shrugged. "With the way Fickle eats? You've got to be mad."

Just as she said it, Fickle padded in. "What about me?" He mewed, dropping his own catch onto the pile. He had a lot less than Night did, and it made her all the happier.

"Fickle!" Night heard the kits squeal and their little paws thunder across the tunnel floor. She heard him grunt as the tree little toms jumped onto whatever they could and bit.

"Tangles, Tree, Mellow, get off him at once!" Fern mewed, and got up to go to them.

The kits sighed sadly and sunk back to the ground. Their legs hot the ground with a small thud.

"Sorry, Fern," Tangles mewed, and his brother joined in right after.

"You shouldn't be apologizing to me!"

Fickle purred in amusement. "Its fine, Fern. They're just playing with me. Let them be kits for a little while longer."

Fern grumbled in exasperation. "You're just as bad as they are," she hissed under her breath as she nudged the kits toward her nest. "Now, kits, its bed time."

"Ah, but Fern-!"

"No buts," she growled, and slumped down to the nest as the kits curled around her belly. Night heard them yawn sleepily before their breathing deepened and they were fast asleep. Fern got up then, leaving the kits to sleep in the warm tunnel alone for a few seconds. She padded toward Night. "I think we should talk about something." Then she turned and walked out of the tunnel.

Night sighed irritably, but followed quickly behind. She followed the nursing queen to the abandoned twoleg nest, into the gap in the broken door, and she treaded to the far right corner of the room. Night followed diligently before sitting down beside the older she-cat. "What do you need now, Fern?"

Fern sighed, and waited a second. Night assumed that Fern was wondering how to begin. That was when Night began to panic. _She wants me to leave! _She thought. _It's because I hate her kits, isn't it?_

"Night, I'm worried about something."

Night's fur began to stand on end, and she stood to her paws and hissed. "Just because I don't like your kits it doesn't mean I'd hurt them! Why are you trying to kick me out?"

Fern didn't reply for a minute, and then she purred in amusement. "Kick you out? Why would I do that? I don't fear that you'll harm my kits, Night. You'd never harm a young cat. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Night blinked uncomfortably, and sat back down. "But why would you take me so far away if you weren't going to say that?"

Fern's tail twitched against a dead leaf, and the sound of the crackling unnerved Night. What's this about? Why is she so nervous?

"I'm worried about how you view others, Night. You are cold, and refuse to care about anyone. I doubt you even care about yourself," she mewed softly, and paused for a moment. "I'm worried you'll never get anywhere, because of your refusal to accept others."

Night remained still for a moment, before she spit angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you mousebrains, I don't need-!"

"You do, Night," Fern interrupted, just as angry. "You need someone as much as me and my kits need someone, as much as Fickle needs someone. As much as Meek needs someone. You're going to completely isolate yourself, Night, and then one day you'll find a cat that just won't let it go, and you'll suffer because you won't have any idea how to deal with it. Whatever happened to you to cause your bitter attitude, it must've been hard. But it's time to let it go!"

Night didn't reply. She looked blindly toward her paws, anger spiking through her fur. She didn't need to listen to this, she could leave right now and not come back. But something was stopping her, causing her body to not listen to her mind. Her paws stayed frozen to the wooden floor of the abandoned nest, and Night couldn't believe it. She hated what had become of her.

She turned her head to Fern again. "I don't need to let any cat ruffle my fur. I can avoid them."

Fern sighed. "If you're so good at avoiding cats, then why did Fickle find you that evening so long ago, coughing from smoke, completely clueless to what was happening. That is when having a cat means something, Night. You need someone to protect you, and you need to protect someone. You can't possibly do it alone, and you understand that. It's why you haven't left our tunnel yet, it's why you still allow Meek to practice hunting with you, even though you're already so great at it." She paused again. "You're a lost cat, Night. You just have to find yourself."

Fern stood to leave, but paused before walking away. "You know what you've got to do. You know as well as I do that you never intended to stay here. There's somewhere marvelous for you out there, with those who can accept you and who you can accept. I'm not asking you to leave, Night. I'm asking you to know yourself. Is leaving here what you intend to do now?"

Night listened as her paw steps faded away and she stayed sitting there, wondering what exactly it was she'd actually been doing that entire time.

* * *

Dovewing gingerly placed the mouse into the fresh kill pile. The weather was being off lately. It was nearing the end of greenleaf, but sudden cold winds swept through the forest. The leaves remained in full bloom though, so she feared nothing from it.

Around her the camp was full of activity. Her sister, Ivypool, was grooming her silver and white fur. Dovewing yearned to join her sister, but Lionblaze had wanted her and Jayfeather to meet him after Dovewing had finished her hunting patrol, which was now. Squirrelflight was busy organizing patrols at the other side of the camp, and her fiery pelt that reminded Dovewing so much of Firestar glowed in the greenleaf light. She knew Squirrelflight wouldn't ask her to do any other patrols today. Squirrelflight was still cautious about exhaustion of the three, because of how hard they'd fought during the battle seven moons ago.

Dovewing thought her worrying was mousebrained, but she didn't ponder too much about it as she headed out of the camp. She was to head to the WindClan border, where she'd find a hollowed out tree that Lionblaze deemed useful for meetings. She knew he'd invite Hollyleaf along; she was a wise and loyal cat. Even her murdering Ashfur didn't seem so bad now.

She arrived swiftly at the hollow tree, and she heard the murmuring of the littermates inside. She crawled in to join them, and Lionblaze was quick to get to the point.

"Jayfeather has been having dreams from StarClan."

Dovewing stared between the grey tabby and the golden tom in dismay. "Another problem? So soon after the battle?"

Hollyleaf grunted in agreement. "It is soon. But I guess there's no such thing as peace forever. And StarClan can't prevent every disaster. It's why they warn us, so we can be prepared."

Dovewing glanced at the black she-cat as she licked her blind brother's ear. "What do you think it means, Jayfeather?"

Dovewing tilted her head. "What was it that you dreamed, anyway? No cat has told me."

Jayfeather turned to Dovewing. "They've alternated the prophecy a lot, since the first dream. I guess I wasn't supposed to know till now. Bluestar spoke to me just last night, telling me a prophecy of what is to come. But I was more cold there than anything."

Dovewing blinked in confusion. "Cold? In StarClan?"

Jayfeather nodded. "Yes. It was snowing. When I asked Bluestar why, she said it was all because of the cold hearted one. Doesn't make much sense to me. She said 'Beware the one whose cold heart shatters her path, for it is she who will be the undoing of an ancient rule that could destroy a kind heart.' It sounds bad to me, but I'm not sure what kind of impact it would have on the Clans."

Hollyleaf shook her head. "Rules are important to a warrior, though, Jayfeather. The warrior code is the only thing stopping constant fighting. If some cat comes and destroys one of the rules-."

"It could be devastating," Lionblaze finished for her. Dovewing never imagined a cat would want to do something like that, but of course it was Sol who'd tried to do the same thing.

"Do you think she'll be like Sol?"

Hollyleaf shot a glance at Dovewing. "Probably. The only cat who ever wanted to uproot the warrior code was Sol. It is probably a cat he has chosen to get their paws dirty instead of him. Especially because he's been chased of several times. No cat would dare allow him back into the Clans after all he's done."

Jayfeather shook his head. "No, I don't think she'll have any relation to Sol."

Hollyleaf looked at him is disbelief. "What do you mean? It'd be just like Sol to do it!"

"That's why I don't believe its Sol. Sol wouldn't send a cat to 'destroy a kind heart'. It wouldn't matter to him."

Hollyleaf sighed in exasperation. "Yes, but the destruction of the kind heart could simply be a way of saying destruction of the heart of the Clans!"

Dovewing nodded her head. "I agree with Hollyleaf. Sol was one scary cat. It would be just like him to try to destroy the Clans again. He's probably figured that the best way to do it is to swipe the leaders' paws from under them."

Lionblaze looked between the two she-cats with his amber eyes, thinking. "No. maybe Jayfeather's right. We can't assume we'll always have the same threats. It's probably a new threat."

"What's a new threat?"

Dovewing stuck her head out of the hole in the tree to find her apprentice, Dewpaw, staring up at her. "Dewpaw, what are you doing here?"

"Squirrelflight wanted me to find you and ask for some battle training today, so I followed your scent here. Is there a new threat to the Clan?" His eyes widened. "Have you told Bramblestar?"

Dovewing sighed, and leapt down from the tree. She saw Hollyleaf looking down at her, and she turned to call out. "Let's meet up later to talk some more, I've got to train Dewpaw!"

Hollyleaf nodded, and turned back to her brothers to relay the news.

Dovewing began to pad toward the training hollow, Dewpaw following behind. "Is the threat the same as when the Dark Forest came? Will it kill Bramblestar like it killed Firestar?"

Dovewing stopped, and turn to face the young tom. "You can't tell any cat what you've heard!" she meowed.

Dewpaw blinked in surprise. "Why? Doesn't that Clan deserve to know?"

Dovewing shook her head. "We'll tell them, once we figure out what it means."

"You mean, you don't know?"

She sighed. "No, not yet. And I really hope it isn't anything bad." She began to pad toward the hollow again. And she couldn't help wondering if this new threat could possibly harm her new apprentice.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Night sat comfortably outside the tunnel, feeling the warmth of the greenleaf air pushing against her whiskers. It had been seven days since she'd had the conversation with Fern, and she was still uncomfortable with the idea of talking to any of them. Around her, she could smell the half grown leaves that had sprung from their buds just the day before. But according to Meek, they wouldn't grow anymore than they had. The freak leaffall was enough to keep them in hiding.

She knew greenleaf was coming to an end. She'd spent most of it here, with these weird cats she'd never of imagined she'd be able to live with. But suddenly, it felt like they were all an important part of her young life. And yes, she thought bitterly, the kits too. Worse for her, she'd never intended on getting attached. She swore never again would she love another cat. And so far, she'd managed it. Sure, she did like these cats, but that was it. She did not love them, and she knew she could never allow herself to love them. Especially in the colder season of leafbare. It was why she'd decided.

"Night? What are you doing up so late?" Fickle yawned as he padded from the tunnel. She felt him sit beside her, and felt his shoulders move as he was probably tilting his head toward the sky. "Have you ever seen the stars?"

Night tilted her head upward, wishing she could've seen what he was seeing. "As a kit, yes, but not much. Mother had rarely let us out after the sun had set." She sighed, and hung her head. "I can't even remember what they look like, or what the moon looks like."

She felt Fickle's fur tickle her ear as he nudged her gently. It was then she realized that this was the first time she'd ever spoken of her mother since she'd died. She tensed, and Fickle pulled away quickly. "Does that make you uncomfortable?"

Night shook her head. "I don't know. But I think I'd rather be alone."

She heard Fickle sigh. "I'm inside if you need to talk," he meowed as he padded away.

She didn't reply, and she sniffed in again the last warm scents she knew she'd smell this greenleaf. She'd felt the cool air flow through the trees the other day when she went to check out the old forest. As she'd treaded there, she'd noticed less ash under paw, making her pads less sore. The forest still stunk of it, though. And not much plant life had recovered yet.

She knew she'd have to leave before the real leaffall began. She knew it'd have to be tonight, when she really felt like she could do it. So, she began to head into the small abandoned twoleg town, sniffing the old nests until she found the one she was looking for. She could hear Meek's snoring from inside, and she snorted in amusement. _He's going to end up just like Moony, you can bet on that._

She crawled inside and padded toward the sound of his snores. She prodded his side gently with a sheathed paw, and waited for him to wake up.

Meek and Night had discussed her leaving two days before, and he'd told her he'd help her start he journey with a bit of strength. She had no clue how he could do that, but she was willing to give herself the best start she could.

Meek grumbled irritably, and climbed to his paws. "Moon high already?"

Night nodded gently. "So, what's that strengthening thing you were meowing about?"

Meek yawned tiredly, and started to pad to the left side of the abandoned nest. "Strengthening herbs. They'll keep you from needing to hunt for a while, so you can focus more on getting somewhere before it gets cold and you need to worry about food. You won't get much away from here; the fire ravaged a lot, which you already know. But if you keep going, I'm sure there will be a great spot for you to rest, and hunt. So you can get where you think you need to be."

He then dropped a bundle of plant leaves and berries at her paws. "I don't know all of what is in it quite yet, so I don't know how it's supposed to do what it does, but Moony had told me many times that this particular mixture of herbs is a good strengthening one. Don't worry, it won't kill you. I tested it this morning."

Night nodded as she licked up the herbs. The leaves were very bitter, but the berries made it taste a lot better. She licked her lips before talking to Meek again. "I thank you, Meek. For everything. I would say I hope to see you again, but I don't really hope for anything, so… You know what you have to tell Fern and Fickle, right?"

She heard Meek murmur an ascent. As she was turning, he stepped in front of her to stop her. "_I_ do hope to see _you _one day, though. And _I_ hope you have a safe journey, and a long happy life. A life that you can live without carrying your anger every paw step. It's a heavy burden, and I don't wish it on you." He stepped away from her path, and murmured as she walked away, "Goodbye, dear friend. I will miss you."

"Goodbye, Meek." There was no sentimentality in Night's voice, and she left without feeling any. She knew that they were no one important, and there was no need to hope to see them again. But she couldn't help wishing them the best. They had helped her when she'd needed it the most, despite her terrible attitude. She would be forever grateful. She hoped that Fern's kits survived Leafbare, so Fern didn't feel what Night had felt. She hoped Fickle found a lovely she-cat to have his own kits with. She hoped Meek did surpass Moony in wisdom, and hoped that he too had a lovely mate one day. There were many cats they lived with, and they'd probably meet many more before they died. They had a lot to offer other strangers.

But Night shoved it all to the back of her mind as she padded away from the old town. Behind her, she knew they'd all be sleeping now. In the morning, they would get her most heartfelt goodbyes from Meek. She'd given her all to give them a proper goodbye. And an apology to Fern, for having not spoken to her since that night where Night had really come to question herself. It was not Fern, but Night, that was the problem.

Night hoped that they wouldn't miss her. She didn't deserve it. They deserved a quiet home to raise the kits in an atmosphere where they don't fear the bitter black cat who hated them. And Night left a goodbye for the little ones, too. An explanation to her hatred and how she'd never intended to harm them. How she wished them the best.

Night shook her head as she walked on. She'd decided to do this. It was time to forget those cats and move on. It was time to truly learn who she was.

* * *

When Night slept the next night, she was shocked to be dreaming of her family again. It had been a moon since she'd seen them last. They were silent since she'd started hunting with Meek.

Day was scampering away up the slope, but he mother wasn't watching Day. She was watching Night.

Night flinched under her mother's amber eyes. It had been a long time since those eyes had gazed upon her. It was more terrifying than the fire that could've killed her all those moons ago. It was more terrifying than losing Naïve to the fox and having to figure out what she and Day would do.

Now, after moons of not giving Night the slightest glance, Naïve would not take her eyes from her. It made Night angry, too.

She glared defiantly back, now. Her fear was quickly forgotten. "What gives you the right to give me any attention now?! Why don't you go care for Day, like you should be?!"

Naïve shook her head. "You didn't need me, but you need me now."

Night's ears flattened on her head. "I didn't need you?!" she yowled angrily to the ginger and grey she-cat. "I didn't need you?! I needed you then! I don't need you now! I've learned how to walk on my own four paws! You didn't help me escape from starvation; you didn't help me escape from the flames. For all you cared, I could've died! And now you think I need you?!" She purred in amusement that was filled with hate and malice. "I don't need or want you now! I want you to go back to when I didn't exist to you! I'm doing what I think is right!"

Naïve sighed, her eyes filled with eternal sadness. "I couldn't help you, Night. You don't understand!" she wailed in despair.

"I understand plenty!"

"No," Naïve insisted, her head shaking again. "You don't know. You're walking in a dangerous place now, Night. A path I never wanted you to tread because it will only lead you to make foolish decisions that will get you killed!"

"Well, if you wanted me to stop, why'd you ignore me while Day continued on conversing with me?" Night challenged as she glared at her mother.

"Day is against me," Naïve meowed sadly. "She believes this path you're taking is the right one. But she's wrong, Night! This entire thing will break you to a point where you'll never recover! It is this path that stole your eyes! What cruel joke is it that someone would steal a kit's sight before she even got the chance to see anything beyond piles of white snow? All they're leading you to is a life of pain and solitude!"

Night hissed. "Whose 'they'?!"

Naïve didn't reply, but her form began to fade behind a small storm of snow. Night backed up, shocked. She looked around, and noticed the snow began to fade into nothingness. She quickly looked back to where her mother was disappearing. "No, Mother! Wait!" She started to try to run to her mother, but her feet were frozen to the ground. Never in her life had she wanted her mother so much. "What do you mean?!"

"The coldest storms can have the warmest hearts."

Night whirled around to face Day, who was rearing up to whisper in her ear. The snow was all gone now, and so was their mother. All that was left was Day and Night floating in pure blackness. Day met Night's eyes without even a flinch.

"Day, what was Mother talking about?! What's going on?!"

Day purred in amusement. "What's happening is supposed to be happening. Mother is opposed to it; she fears she'll lose you to hatred and pain that she doesn't believe you can handle. But I believe in you, Night." She rubbed her head against Night's legs, purring. And Night couldn't help remembering that that was the exact same thing Day had said before the fox had begun to chase them. She had said "I believe in you, Night."

Night flinched, and pulled herself away from the little white kit. "What's happening, Day?! Last time you said that to me, my life was destroyed! What do you want me to do now?! Do you want me to join you in death?!"

Day reeled back as if she were smacked. "No! I would never want you dead!" She took a deep breath into her tiny body. "I'm trying to give you confidence, Night. A confidence you will need."

Night tilted her head. "Oh? And what do I need confidence for?"

Day sighed, and shook her head. "It's not easy," she breathed, and sat down. "'The roots have shook, the dead have come, but now all that is left is one. The coldest leafbare brings the warmest newleaf, and all that was said will soon be done again.'"

The words sounded ominous to Night, a chilled her spine. But before she could ask Day what she had meant, the little kit was gone, and Night was alone in the pitch dark, the strange prophecy echoing in the empty space.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The she-cat hissed, her ginger fur fluffed out angrily to make her look twice her size. In front of her stood dozens of star-pelted cats looking back at her, their tails swishing behind them in amusement. Among them, her own daughter. She narrowed her eyes angrily, feeling betrayal as sharp as a thorn.

"You promised me! You told me that Night would be free if she were blinded to her path! And now, here she is; with no sight, stumbling down the exact path we'd dealed that she'd never find. You lied to me!"

A grey furred cat stepped forward from the mass of cats, her head shaking in sympathy. "We couldn't make such a promise, Naïve. There is no way StarClan can promise to alter a fate. Preventing one is nearly impossible. We'd thought when she'd been born, that taking her sight could prevent her from taking on this fate, but we were wrong. All this time, it was predetermined that all of this would happen, that she would make this choice and you would be incapable of stopping her. Blinding her in no way stopped it. Perhaps it merely sped up the process."

Naïve's tail twitched in irritation. "Maybe if, at the time, she'd had her sight, I would not have died the way I had! I could've lived to prevent it. I should never have let you take it from her," she sighed, and sunk sadly to her haunches.

Day stood from the canter of the mass of cats and sauntered up to join the grey furred cat in front of them. "You are wrong, mother. You and I were to die the moment Night was born. There was nothing that could have stopped it. You were meant to make that choice, the choice to blind her. I believe it makes the choice she will have to make at the end all the different. It could be for the greater good," she paused. "Wailing to Bluestar," she gestured to the grey she-cat with her tail, before swishing her tail to indicate the rest of the cats, "and the rest of StarClan will change nothing. These cats have more to do than listen to your pitiful wailing."

Naïve glared at her fluffy white daughter in disdain. Never had she intended to be in this kind of position with either of her daughters. It angered her, making the blood boil in her veins. She couldn't understand it. What had either of them done to deserve all this?!

Naïve did not reply to her young white daughter, but instead turned to Bluestar. "Your 'StarClan' blinded my daughter! You took her sight! You can return it to her!"

Bluestar shook her head sadly. "No. What's done is done now. Besides, Night can barely remember a life with sight. For as long as she can remember, she's been blind. Why would you want to give her confusion now after she's already had so much of it? You are complicating the path Night has been chosen to walk!" Bluestar paused a moment to take another breath of air. "You're making your daughter's life even harder, harder than it needs to be. If you're ok with it, we'd be more than willing to watch over your daughter. After all, she's about to change things for us all. And we have yet to determine whether it is good or bad."

Bluestar turned and nodded to the other cats who lined the clearing behind her. They nodded in return, and one by one they all faded into the sky. All that remained was Bluestar, Day, and Naïve.

Bluestar took another deep breath, and nudged Day gently toward her mother. Day mewed quietly, so low Naïve could not hear, then trotted across the clearing to her mother's side with no hesitation. "Go watch over your daughter, Naïve. The night is ending, and she will soon wake. She will need your eyes more now than ever, whether she realizes it or not." Then she too faded into the sky, leaving Naïve and Day alone in the vast clearing.

Day looked up at her mother, who loomed greatly in height. Her amber eyes blinked as she thought. "You know, Night does need to walk this path, for herself more than anyone. You've seen her, mother. She ill at mind." When Naïve shook her head disagreeably, Day sighed. "You will understand one day, mother. When that day comes, I really hope you're not too late for Night."

Naïve shook her head. "Night doesn't need it, Day-" she blinked as she noticed her daughter was no longer standing beside her. She turned her head, and saw her daughter padding to the two curved trees.

Day turned her head to her mother, and purred in amusement. "Come one, mother! The night is nearly over. We don't have much time to get to Night before she prepares to leave again. Let's hope she has good hunting today, she must be starving!"

Naïve sighed, and turn to follow her small daughter from the clearing.

* * *

Night woke to the heat of the rising sun in her fur, and she sighed as she heaved herself to her paws. "Another long day," she grumbled, as she sniffed the air hoping to smell a forest nearby. Her head hung in defeat when all she could smell was the peaty ground of the moor.

She'd been trapped there for three days now, trudging in a straight line. It had been three days since she'd last eaten. Hunting on the moor was impossible for Night; she lacked the speed necessary for it. Rabbits were quick, and she was unlucky to that she had not found any dead carcasses now.

She regretted leaving the small abandoned twoleg village now. But it was far too late for her to turn back. She had no idea how close she was to her destination, though she had a feeling it was still far. Why ever she thought leaving just because she wanted to find somewhere more suited to her was a good idea, she didn't know.

Besides that, she knew she'd travelled for 10 sunrises. Her strengthening herbs had long since worn off, and she doubted that without the help of the herbs she'd make it back alive. She'd probably starve to death, no matter what she chose.

But Night felt in every inch of her fur that she was headed the right way. So, she continued straight, as she had been for days.

She was glad to have been having undisturbed sleep. She hadn't dreamed of her family since that strange dream at the beginning of her journey that told her that her mother thought it was a mouse brained idea and Day had thought she had to do it even though it was probably likely to kill her. Either way, she refused to listen to either of the two she-cats. She had things she intended and she was not going to let a couple of dead cats tell her what to do. Especially now, that she'd gained her own will away from others. She was now competent, strong, all the more wise, and capable of feeding herself. If only she could get off the annoying moor.

But the moor dragged on. It was well passed sunhigh when Night stopped to drink one of the many puddles on the moor. Unlike her problems with feeding herself, hydration was not a problem. Rain had plagued the moor since two days prior, and she found that at first when she drank water, it sharpened her hunger, but eventually soothed it enough so that she could ignore it a little while longer.

She flinched as the warm water first touched her stomach, but continued to drink until she felt she could drink no more. Then, she stood to her paws and continued once more.

* * *

Jayfeather watched Yellowfang pace restlessly, and he sighed irritably. "What did you call me here for, Yellowfang?"

Yellowfang did not reply for several moments, but the stopped pacing suddenly in front of Jayfeather, causing him to flinch in surprise. She glared at him with pale orange eyes. "Do you not take StarClan seriously anymore?! What have you to say of the prophecy?!"

Jayfeather heard the echo of the strange prophecy in his ears, and the cold wind of the threat rippling through his fur. He shuddered. "Is this threat dangerous?"

Yellowfang sighed, and sat in a huff. "No cat knows, Jayfeather. But do you think the Clans should know, in any case?"

Jayfeather hesitated a moment, before shaking his head. "I'm sure if it was bad, you'd be acting a lot differently. You're pretty irritable, though. What's got your tail in a knot?"

Yellowfang's fur began to spike angrily, and she jumped to her paws. "That is my business, none of yours. Young cats never mind their own business!"

"Calm yourself, Yellowfang. Jayfeather meant no harm."

Yellowfang turned to meet the gaze of Bluestar, her fur gleaming in the moonlight. "It's you, Bluestar." Yellowfang sighed then. "I miss when it had been Spottedleaf who'd done that."

Bluestar shook her head. "I know. It was terrible she had to die that way."

"It was best, for the Clans."

Jayfeather gasped as Firestar stepped from the shadows. He felt a prickling in his fur and leapt happily to his paws. It had been such a long time since he'd seen Firestar. He hadn't seen him in StarClan since he'd died. "Firestar! It's great to see you!"

Firestar dipped his head in greeting. "And same to you, Jayfeather." He then turned to the two she-cats. "Are you discussing the prophecy?"

Bluestar nodded her head. "Yes. Well, Yellowfang was with Jayfeather, anyway. I popped in to stop her from chewing his ears off."

Firestar's eyes gleamed in amusement, but he didn't say anything. He turned once again to Jayfeather. "In my honest opinion, I'm not sure about Bramblestar's, but I'd suggest keeping the prophecy to you for now. I don't think it is anything to worry the Clans about at this point. Just await it. Be prepared for it."

"Who's the kind heart supposed to refer to?"

Firestar shook his head. "I do not have the answers for you, Jayfeather." He purred in amusement. "Have patience, Jayfeather. The day will come when you will know more."

Jayfeather narrowed his eyes, and grumbled bitterly. "Haven't I had enough patience with the prophecy of three? I waited a long time for an answer to that!"

"Patience is an important part of being a medicine cat!" Yellowfang growled. "You should be patient in all things!"

"And besides," Bluestar added. "I doubt this prophecy has anything to do with the power of three, really. I think it's just a normal prophecy that just refers to a normal threat."

Jayfeather's ears twitched, confused. "Then how is it a threat?"

Yellowfang hissed. "Being powerful doesn't mean everything, Jayfeather! You ought to remember that!"

Jayfeather's tail twitched nervously. It was then he realized it was dawn and he had to awake to care for Briarlight once more. He stared at the cats in front of him. "I hope to see you again tonight. We could discuss this more formally."

"Yeah right," Yellowfang snorted as the grey tabby tom faded into the mist.

"Are you sure we should've told him that it had nothing to do with the three, Bluestar? It could have everything to do with them."

"Firestar," Bluestar sighed. "I think that in reality, it has nothing to do with the three." She stared at the direction Jayfeather had disappeared. "I think it only has to do with one."


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Night felt cold that night. Leaffall was in the air, and the leaves had already fallen. She knew if she didn't get of the moor soon, she'd freeze to death. Leafbare was closing in quickly. It had been a moon since Night left the abandoned town behind, and she was beyond kit hood. But she was still starving. And with leafbare closing in, she feared that the starvation and cold would lead her to the same fate as her sister.

She could feel the drizzle of rain coat her fur and she shivered violently. She knew, because of the many leaves she stepped on, she was near a forest, but her nose was stinging from the cold too much for her to scent it. She just hoped she was close enough that walking straight would land her between the trees.

She had passed a rocky place some ways back, and she knew staying there was more risky than staying on the moor, where she had grass to warm her pads and dead animals to find. She knew that the animals would be hiding deep in their dens by now, smelling the snow from the sky.

She wasn't sure why the seasons acted so confusing here. It had been a moon ago that it had been only just slightly cold. But the cold was quick here, and it bit viciously at any exposed skin it could find on Night's small body. She shivered again, and climbed to her paws._ It's too cold to rest now, I'll have to keep walking_, she thought as she started to pad forward slowly. She longed for the warmth of the tunnel of Fern and Fickle and the three young kits.

Remembering them gave her an ache in her chest, and she couldn't help worrying about how the cold would affect Fern. Her kits were only 2 or 3 moons old, and the sudden cold wouldn't be good for them. But at the same time, she couldn't care about the little scraps, only their mother. She felt that she owed a lot to the she-cat, more than she owed any cat. She loved Fern almost as much as if she were her mother, not that Night had really understood it. Love was foreign to Night; she couldn't remember how it really felt. So she assumed the feeling she had for Fern was only gratitude.

The night air continued to bite at Night's ears, and she folded them to her head to avoid the cold. She never knew leaffall was this cold. Her mother had said last leaffall was cold, as well, but Night never imagined that it could be that cold.

She shivered as she walked, hoping she would soon find warmth that she needed so desperately. The smells around her were odd; they smelled as if cats were there. But she knew, from her ears, that there was no cat near, and she grumbled angrily at how her nose was fooling her. Never had her nose failed her before, and she feared it meant her death.

She shrieked in terror at the thought, and began to speed up on her paws. "I have to warm up!" she hissed under her breath as she sped forward. She could feel warmth in her pelt, but her throat ached in thirst as the cold air was sucked into her gaping mouth. The cold was worse than a dry greenleaf day, and she gasped at the pain.

She hadn't run like this in a long time. She'd never had to. She only ran like this when her mother was being murdered, and she was desperately dragging Day away from the sight. At the time, her vision had already failed, and she was running blindly.

That was all Night could remember from that Day, the sharp ache in her chest as the smell of her mother's blood invaded her nose, and her sister's screeching filled her ears. It was the last thought and memory that crossed her mind as she fell asleep at Night.

And now she was remembering it again. She shuddered, and pushed furiously at the ground with her paws. She had to go faster, she needed to find warmth. She felt her tongue began to loll from her mouth, and her eyes water as the wind stabbed into them. Her breath came out in pants at her desperate run. Fear spiked in her fur, and she wished that someone would help her.

The smell of the grass began to waft to her nose, and she realized that she was falling. No! Not yet, she begged frantically in her mind, as her muzzle hit the earth. She felt no pain, she realized as she lay there. Her body felt like rocks, she couldn't smell anything anymore. She felt nothing. She sighed in relief at the comfort she was feeling now that she couldn't feel the sharp pangs of hunger, the cracking in her throat from thirst, the aching of her frostbitten paws. If this was only leaffall, then Night thought it best to die there, instead of suffering an even colder death when snow covered the ground.

Night closed her eyes, and fell asleep to the gently thudding of a rabbit across the moor.

* * *

Night shot up in alarm, the warmth of sunrise on her pelt. It was unimaginable that it had been that cold the night before, when the air was warmer from the sun. The ground beneath her was littered with frost, and she felt the cold icy frost frozen to her pelt. She was too exhausted to lean back and lick it off. Instead, she sat there, and hoped that she could find out where she was. She sniffed desperately, but her nose still refused to work. It was stuffed up, and no matter what she did, no air would go in or come out of her nose. It was then she realized how thirsty she was. She was breathing through her hanging mouth, and she scrambled shakily to her paws. She had to find water now.

She treaded slowly forward, and bent gingerly to sniff the frost that she felt beneath her paws. _I can lick that up, right_, she thought, and she stuck out her tongue to try.

"Intruder!" Night heard from somewhere nearby, and her fur stuck up in panic. She whirled angrily toward the direction of the yowl, and waited as she heard their paws thundering toward her. She had no idea how many of them there were, but she would stand her ground, no matter what.

"Why are you here, you foxdung!" A tom growled aggressively, and she heard growls come from other cats around them.

Night didn't reply, and stood gingerly as she waited for them to attack.

"Why, she's half dead! Why don't we just chase her off, and let her die across the border?" A she-cat meowed, and Night knew the she was talking to the tom who spoke first.

"But, across the border is-"

"Let it be their problem," another she-cat agreed, her meow mocking. "Whatever the stupid cats do, they should have better judgment now that Firestar is dead!"

Another tom cat meowed in agreement. "Bramblestar isn't kittypet soft. He might even decide to kill the pathetic mewling himself."

She heard the first tom cat sigh. "I guess there's no point in dirtying our own paws." Night hissed aggressively at the four cats, and the first tom returned it with a snarl. "Leave, you loner, before we tear your little pelt to pieces!"

Night took it as a free pass, and she turned and ran swiftly from the four cats. She could hear their paws thundering behind her, and she yowled aloud in terror. She was exhausted, her paws heavy as they hit the earth over and over. She only wished she was as painless as the night before, but now her paws twitched in agony from the constant walking and the cold that it made running from the strange cats even harder.

She shrieked as she found herself plunging under water, the cold of it swirling where frost could not reach. She struggled desperately to put her head above the water, so she could take a long, necessary breath. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her paws to propel her up. Her strength was being sapped away from the cold. Night never felt so pathetic in her life. Her mind was filled with rage. Rage at anything and everything. Rage at her mother, and her sister, for dying and leaving her with a life long struggle of surviving. At Meek, for actually letting her go. To Fern, for making her remember she wanted to leave in the first place. She felt rage for the stupid little kits, who she had despised from the moment of their birth. And to the mangy flea pelts who'd chased her to her death.

She'd never hated so much in her life. She knew that she never should have let her guard down, should never of let those foolish cats weaken her guard. She should have left them as soon as she'd recovered from the fire, instead of clinging desperately to company that she hadn't even known she'd desired.

She sucked in water in her attempt for air, and scrabbled desperately to get out as she began to drown. She felt her paws slip on rocks from the water bed, and she realized she was flowing with some sort of current. She opened her mouth in a soundless screech as she began to lose consciousness.

* * *

She thought she was dead. She blinked, hoping to see, but saw nothing. Around her, she heard a gentle murmuring from a cat who was speaking to herself. Night leapt to her paws, but slumped ungracefully to the floor, her muscles aching. "Who are you?! What do you want form me?!"

"I don't want anything from you, dear one."

"Who are you?!"

The she-cat who'd spoken to her sighed, sounding lost. "My name is Spottedleaf. I should not be here. I was destroyed. But somehow, I found my way to you. Now, who are you? And why did you summon me here?"

"Summon-," Night repeated stunned. Then she curled her lips menacingly. "I never summoned you! I have no need for cats that should not exist!"

She heard Spottedleaf slump sadly to the floor. "I shouldn't exist. I should have ceased to exist during the battle. But you're keeping me here. I should be grateful to you. But why would you, a cat who has nothing to do with the Clans, keep me here? I know nothing of what you must be, who you are, where you come from. I don't even know where you are right now, physically."

"What do you mean, where I am physically?"

Suddenly, the cat appeared from the endless blackness that Night could see. The slender tortoiseshell was not even a fox length from her, her amber eyes staring in confusion at Night. Night flinched at the extent of torture she saw there.

"Right now," Spottedleaf meowed gently, her eyes blinking at the young black cat, "You are away from your physical self. You are with me, here." She tilted her head slowly, and narrowed her eyes. "You are blind, aren't you? You stare at me with emptiness one moment, but the next… You are blind, right?"

Night blinked her own eyes, shocked that she could see the cat. She was a beautiful cat, who smelled of plants. But at the same time, Night could smell death, as if the cat were dying. But she looked perfectly healthy. "I am blind. But I can see you. I've never seen any cat in my dreams, except my mother and sister. Only cats I'd seen when I could see. Why can I see you? I've never met you!"

Spottedleaf shook her head gently, her eyes glowing with grief. "I don't know. But maybe you were meant to see me. Maybe that's why I'm still here." She climbed to her paws, and reached her head down gently to touch her nose to Night's head. "Whatever it is that has brought us together, I assume it wants you to live. If ever we see each other again, I hope to know more as to why. But for now, you must return to life, young one."

Night looked up at the cat as she began to back away. "Night," she meowed gently, and Spottedleaf stopped backing away. "My name is Night."

Spottedleaf nodded gently. "Well, Night, I do hope to see you again. You are the only cat I've seen in a long time." She then turned, and she faded from Night's vision. Night was left once more in complete darkness, cold creeping through her fur. She sighed, and dropped her head to her paws in thought. She never wanted to meet Spottedleaf again. Her aura was filled with pain.


	13. Chapter 12

**_Chapter 12_**

"Can you believe this?! That mangy… I hate her!" She heard a sigh, and she twitched her ears indignantly. "You got something to say, Day?!"

She heard a crunch in the snow of little paws scrabbling to catch up. She knew the smaller kit would have trouble keeping up with her, especially from the cold and hunger. It was a cruel leafbare, and both had a hard time finding food and shelter. And she wasn't any help. Neither of the two cats could do much. One was small, one was blind.

"Night, she didn't mean to-"

"Mean to what?!" Night turned bitterly toward her younger sister, her fur prickling along her spine. "Mean to die?! Is that what you were going to say, Day?!" Night turned away again, bitterness clumping in her throat like bile. She began to trot away, and she could hear the smaller she-cat struggling to catch up.

"Night, please! I'm sorry! I know you feel terrible every time I mention it, but you're going on about it all wrong!" Night could hear Day's pants as she tried her hardest to run. Night wanted to snort at her pathetic sister, wanted to pin her to the ground and tell her to get better at this. But then Night would remember it was her fault Day was in this situation at all, and guilt would press heavily on her heart. She felt like she could wail and wail until her heart stopped beating. But she had to be there. For the young kit whose life she'd stolen away, due to the death of their mother that was all her fault.

Night stopped, and waited silently as her small sister scrambled awkwardly through the snow to reach Night's side again. She listened to the wheezing of her little sister as she struggled with the amount of movement she'd been doing. Night sighed, and curled her tail around her paws and stared blindly upward, wondering if she was looking at the sun now, and if she could see it how much the leafbare sun would hurt her eyes. She couldn't remember the sensation of the sun in her eyes; it had already been a moon since she'd lost her sight.

Day stopped, struggling desperately to catch her breath by Night's front paws. Her gasping startled Night and she dropped her unseeing eyes to the direction of the sound. "Day, are you tired?"

She heard Day take a deep breath. "Its noth-," she stopped a moment to take another breath. "-ing." She heard Day scramble to her paws, her breath wheezing from her throat. "We should- keep going. It – will be- night – soon."

Night sighed, but made to move to get up. "Nah, night is close now. We might as well stop now."

She heard Day huff grumpily, but the sound was quickly followed by the thump of Day's small body slumping in the snow. "We'll never get anywhere that way, Night. The sun hasn't even begun to set yet."

Night purred in amusement. "But the sun sets later every day. This is the same time as yesterday. I can smell it in the air." Night couldn't help the fear that ran through her mind. She knew that this was a lot earlier than the day before, and the day before that they'd stopped earlier again. Every day her sister had less and less energy, and she found they took less breaks than they did actually walking. But she was quick to assure Day that nothing had changed, that time felt different because they were losing track of it, and the season was slowly shifting past, making the days longer. And Day always believed Night, no matter what the lie. Night clenched her teeth angrily, hating herself for fooling her sister. But it was the best she could do. Day needed to be lied to. Her mother had done the same thing.

Day breathed gently. "But doesn't that mean we should spend more time moving. More daylight means more travel time, right? We could get so far!" But Day made no move to make a real argument, instead curled gently into Night's side for warmth.

Night felt a pang of remorse, knowing that her sister could never handle the harsh demands she spoke of. The young cat was sick, Night knew it, and she had no idea how to help her. All she could do was lie to her, and feed her, and warm her. She leaned down gently, and licked her sister's pelt the wrong way, warming her small body. Day purred in content, her breathing deepening as she began to fall to sleep.

"Night, do you think mother's still watching us, from wherever her spirit may have gone?"

Night didn't believe it for a second, but she didn't tell that to Day. She began to curl around the smaller kit to give her warmth. "Of course she is. She'd never leave you, or me, to fend for ourselves. She making sure our paws are falling into the right paw holes as we speak," she purred gently, and Day sighed happily.

"I told you, Night. Mother really loves us. She didn't abandon us. She just needed to find a new way to care for us, because the old way wasn't working anymore. You can understand, right, Night? Mother even watched you as your eye sight began to fail. She fed us all she could, even with the harsh of leafbare causing food to be scarce. She died because she loves us."

Night hated hearing her sister say things. Before their mother had died, she had looked at Night with sharp glares before Night had even lost her sight, She never showed Night the same love she showed Day. But Day never saw any of it. The small kit was always in-between the two, the only reason the two never leapt at each others' throats. Day was the one the two truly loved, even if they'd never loved one another.

"Of course, Day. Mother was trying to protect us from my mistake. I should never have done it." _No, mother was only trying to protect you. I doubt she'd have minded my death, if only to protect you, dear sister._ But Night never voiced her thoughts out loud. Instead, and laid her tail gently over her sister's flank, hoping to give the kit as much warmth as possible.

She felt Day shake her head. "You didn't know, Night. How could you? Mother understands that all you did was a mistake. I know that, you know that, she knows that. We're too young to know these things. Mother died knowing it. She knew you never meant to do it."

Night shook her head, but knew that Day was so near sleep she'd never have noticed the disagreeing shake. Her breathing was gentle, and Night knew her small sister would soon sleep, and Night would stay awake again that night to watch over her. She hadn't slept since their mother's death, and she wasn't keen to let Day know it, either.

She heard Day sigh sleepily. "I'm so tired, Night. Tomorrow, let's find that place mother spoke about, ok? That way, we can eat and rest comfortably."

Night nodded. "Yeah, we'll definitely do it tomorrow," Night lied, feeling the last word slip uncomfortably from her throat. "Tomorrow, we'll get there." She said the lie every night, and Day had never complained about it. It was motivation, Night thought, for the small kit. It was a difficult journey, especially for one so small.

She heard Day's final sigh as she fell asleep, and the small flank rose and fell rhythmically under Night's tail. Night placed her head gently on the small body, warming her.

It wasn't long after that Day's breathing began to slow. Night's head shot up in alarm, and she began to prod Day anxiously. "Day? Day, c'mon! It's morning! Today's the day we find the place mother spoke about! It's time to get up! Let's go!" She was lying, for it had only just reached sunset, but the small kit had no response. Her breathing was sharp, slow, and it wheezed painfully from her chest.

Night began to feel desperate. She stood, and began to shake Day viciously with her forepaw. "Day! Day, c'mon! You can't do this to me! Please! You know I need you!" Day still made no response, and Night's tail began to twitch.

"Please, Day! Please! You can't die! You can't leave me alone! I'm begging you," she wailed, nudging and shaking the small kit desperately. Day's breathing continued to slacken, until it was almost nothing. Night turned her muzzle to the sky. "Please," she breathed. "Mother, you love her. You won't let her die. If you're watching over us, please, give her the strength to wake up!"

But nothing changed, and Night's chest began to feel heavier and heavier as her sister's breathing weakened and weakened, until finally, it stopped.

Night stopped her prodding, and hung her head. Her little sister was dead. Her anger began to build in her chest, and she turned her head once more to the sky. "I know you're watching, mother! I know you hate me!" Night turned, and stomped bitterly away from her sister's still warm corpse. She stopped again, and turned herself to the direction she had come from. She stared blindly at where she assumed her sister's body lay.

"You told me you'd never leave! You both did! You lied," she screeched. "You told me you loved me, mother! You promised me a world I wanted to dearly! But you hated me! You glared at me when you thought I wasn't watching! You took Day from me, because you didn't want me to have her!" Night hesitated, and took a deep breath. "You let her take you from me, Day! You promised that you would be here with me, but you let her take you. I hate you! I hate you both."

She turned again, and stomped angrily through the snow away from everything she had ever known. The cool air bit angrily at Night, but her anger warmed her, and she felt the hatred burn in her belly. "Neither of you is worth my thoughts! I hope you both rot!"

And with that, Night decided, as the wind blew angry flakes of snow into her face, that the night is cruel. The night was cold, and dark. There was nothing more that the night could have. It was meant for solitude.

"I don't need love," she yowled angrily. "I am the Night! Only the moon will ever see my eyes! The day is nothing more than a lie!" She hissed under her breath as she continued in the snow. "I am the Night! Night stands forever alone!"

* * *

Jayfeather sighed as he sniffed the fur of the strange cat. There were no visible wounds, meaning she was probably just cold. He'd tried everything to wake her up, but no matter what he tried to wake her, nothing happened. She'd made multiple sudden noises, all of which were the sounds of a cat being tortured. And every time she made one, he flinched, and tried to wake her. But there was no response.

"You got all the water from her lungs, right," he heard Leafpool meow, and he twitched his ears in her direction.

"I think I've got it all. But she isn't responding. I think she's having a nightmare. Do you know how she came to be in the lake?"

He heard Leafpool pad forward to stand by his side. "Lionblaze and Blossomfall found a WindClan patrol upstream, along the border. Heathertail was quite disturbed, when they found them. Breezepelt was, you know… Smug. Ashfoot said they'd chased the cat from their territory, and she was shocked to see the cat running straight into the stream. She'd halted the chase, but you know Breezepelt. He never stopped at the order."

Jayfeather's fur prickled with unease._ Breezepelt_, he thought, unnerved. _That cat would have no quarrel with murdering any cat, as long as they weren't from his Clan. Or maybe he would._ Jayfeather sighed. _I don't even know anymore._ "Do you think there's any more we can do for her now?"

Leafpool sighed. "I don't know, Jayfeather. The best you can do for her now is keep her warm, and hope she wakes up soon. She may still die. She's beyond starved, and the cold, along with the nearly drowning. I'm not sure she'll have the strength to wake herself up."

Jayfeather felt anger burn in his belly, but made no move to contradict his mother. She was, after all, older. She must've seen more cases like this than Jayfeather head. He dipped his head in gratitude. "Thank you for the help, Leafpool."

He heard Leafpool take a breath to reply. Suddenly, the small cat screeched loudly, and Jayfeather flinched, and backed slightly away. He heard Leafpool jump, too, and wondered how much it had terrified her.

Leafpool padded closer to the cat, and he heard her rasp her tongue across the small cat's fur. "It's alright, young one. Be strong now. Soon, you will be awake, and we'll all be here to help you." She left the small cat, and padded toward Jayfeather. She sat delicately in front of him.

"She's not yowling like that from pain, is she, Leafpool?"

He felt her fur brush his whiskers as she shook her head. "I don't believe so. I've only heard yowling like that from Ferncloud, back a long time ago. She wasn't in pain then."

Jayfeather felt sadness from Leafpool, and decided not to ask why Ferncloud would yowl as if in such torture. Nor did he talk about Ferncloud after that. "Do you think she might actually wake up?"

Leafpool took a deep breath. "I don't know, Jayfeather. She sounds as if she doesn't care if she lives or dies. Her life is dependant completely on you." He heard Leafpool get to her paws. "I'll go report this to Bramblestar. I'm sure he'll take pity on her. She's barely more than a kit." And he heard her paw steps disappear through the entrance. He sat again beside the small cat, and wondered what had brought her here.

* * *

Author's Note:

I, once again, got some facts wrong in my story. Sorry readers. I forgot that Hollyleaf died in the battle with the Dark forest, so just forget everything said about her in my story. Also, the kit I named Blackkit will now be named Hollykit, Lionblaze's way to honor his sister, and how his kit looks just like her. So, when the three meet about the new prophecy Jayfeather received, forget Hollyleaf was there. And Dovewing's thoughts about her could simply be her wishing Hollyleaf was there, because she was a StarClan loving cat. I'm reviewing all of my characters now to make sure that theyre supposed to be there. Thanks for your patience.


	14. Chapter 13

**_Chapter 13_**

Jayfeather heard Briarlight squirm uncomfortably as the small cat let out another loud torturous yowl. He felt pity for the crippled cat, but made no move to comfort her. The constant yowling was unnerving enough to Jayfeather without interfering in Briarlight's feelings.

It had been three days since Leafpool had dragged the kit out of the lake with Lionblaze, Blossomfall, and Amberpaw's aid. At least, Jayfeather assumed the strange cat was a kit. She was tiny, and thin from starvation. Her fur was torn in places, likely from rocks snagging her pelt on the bottom of the stream as it pulled her relentlessly into the lake. She was probably the size of a kit at 5 moons, but he had no idea as to whether she was actually that age or if she was big or small for her age.

She'd let out the piercing shrieks often, and she'd torn her nest to pieces three times the day before. But her thrashing stopped as the sun set the night before, only her yowls remained. And even those were beginning to fade. It startled Jayfeather, and he found he couldn't sleep that night, listening carefully to the kit's breathing to see if it were dying. But the kit's breathing did not change, even if her shrieks of agony were fading. Leafpool feared that the kit had no will to live, and was going to let herself die without a fight. But Jayfeather stayed with the kit for as long as he could, to make sure she remained alive. He'd asked Brightheart and Leafpool to collect his herbs, though he doubted Leafpool looked. She tried to avoid doing medicine cat tasks as much as possible. But Leafpool checked in often to see if the kit was still alive.

Bramblestar was curious about the kit residing in Jayfeather's den, and had visited once. It did not shock him to hear the shrieks she made. The whole camp had heard them. Although it had been muffled to them. The volume of it had been deafening to Bramblestar, though, and he left asking Jayfeather to call for him if she stopped, or if she woke. Neither of which had happened.

All of the cats had come in with false complaints throughout the three days just to catch a glimpse of the strange kit. Sandstorm had quickly taken an interest in the small cat, and she was there almost as often as her daughter was. She told Jayfeather that she felt she needed something to take her mind off of the death of Firestar, and that he would appreciate kindness to any cat that needed it. Squirrelflight had taken an interest too, pointing out with her mother's help the strength in the kit's legs, showing what a great hunter she could be. Jayfeather doubted the poor thing was much of a hunter, but he allowed the she-cats to fawn over her.

He sighed, and moved his nest closer to the kit's. It was another cold leaffall night, and he knew that the small kits needed warmth more in the night than the day. The days were a lot warmer than that of the night, and he knew it would be another moon before leafbare fell upon the forest once more. He wondered how the thin kit would survive it. But he shrugged away the thoughts, and gently rasped his tongue over her short fur.

"I can take over tonight, Jayfeather. You need to sleep."

He twitched his ear to let the cat know he was listening, and heard their paw steps pad gently into the den. The smell of Sandstorm flooded his nose. He turned his head in her direction. "She's yowling less and less. I'm worried about what that might mean."

Sandstorm slipped gently past Jayfeather and he heard her curl herself in the nest beside the kit. He could hear her tongue gently caressing the kit's fur. "It may be good. It may mean that she will soon wake up. It could be a good thing. Have you spoken to Leafpool?"

Jayfeather's tail twitched. "She doesn't like to talk about stuff like that, Sandstorm."

Sandstorm sighed. "I don't know, Jayfeather. The way she's been staring at the den the past moon… She wants to be here, the whole Clan knows it. It's just a matter of time now. No cat begrudges her. Her kits became important; you, your brother, and Hollyleaf, even if she wasn't one of the three. She deserves to be here now more than ever."

Jayfeather nodded his head, though he doubted it wouldn't be anytime soon. He flicked his ears toward their gentle breathing. "Sandstorm, what do you think about her run into the stream?"

Sandstorm adjusted her position before replying. "It made me think of something very similar, actually. Remember those foxes you and your siblings wanted to chase off on your own?"

Jayfeather's ears flattened to his head in shame, and he felt his pelt warm in embarrassment_. How could I forget?_ He thought. _I nearly died_. "What does that have to do with this?"

Sandstorm purred in amusement. "You ran from the fox and ran over the side of the hollow without even realizing it. You are blind, and you didn't see where you were headed. I think this kit may be in your situation."

Jayfeather blinked, and sprung to his paws. "You think she's blind?! Of course! That would make her mousebrained launch into the river make more sense. But why would she be blind?"

He heard Sandstorm sigh again. "Some cats are blind because they are, there doesn't have to be a reason for it."

"Do you think Kestrelflight fathered her, and Onestar thought that she had to be chased off?"

Sandstorm hissed in frustration. "No, Jayfeather. There is no smell of WindClan. She is merely a blind kit who stumbled there. She is a poor young one, and needs us more than ever."

Jayfeather sighed, but dipped his head in agreement. "I'm sorry. I just don't like to imagine I'm the only one."

Sandstorm purred again. "Get some sleep, Jayfeather. I will wake you if there is any change."

Jayfeather nodded, and closed his eyes sleepily.

* * *

Jayfeather awoke to a loud yowl of surprise. He jumped from his nest, and smelt Sandstorm's blood in the air. "Sandstorm, are you ok?"

He heard shuffling as Sandstorm scrambled to her paws. From the other side of the den, opposite of Sandstorm, he heard an angry panting.

"Jayfeather! She woke up, and… it surprised me!"

The she-kit let out a low growl, and Jayfeather could feel her fear surround him. But he paid her no attention as he turned to tend to Sandstorm's wound.

"Its not bad," she meowed gently. "It appears she only attacked out of fright. She got my shoulder, but its barely a scratch."

Jayfeather sniffed the wound gently, as she heard paw steps thunder quickly into the den.

"Sandstorm!?" He heard Leafpool meow in surprise. The she-kit let out another growl, and he could feel Leafpool's anger radiating from her fur.

"Leafpool," Jayfeather meowed gently. "Can you care for Sandstorm's wounds?"

He heard Leafpool mutter agreement as she treaded gently across the den, away from the kit. Briarlight was huddling in the corner by the entrance, terror radiating around her. But Jayfeather ignored her, and turned to the menacing kit.

"Who are you, kit? Why did you attack Sandstorm?"

He felt the kit's fear strengthen, but was mixed with a rage he'd never felt from a cat before. "I'm no kit!," she growled. "I'm eight moons old!"

Beyond that, she said nothing. Jayfeather automatically understood. The kit was undersized, weak from starvation and her near death experience. She couldn't defend herself. But he knew she would try, if it came to that.

"Ok, young cat. We do not wish to harm you. We helped you. You would've died without it."

He felt her anger spike. "You should've let me!" Her screech was filled with malice, and Jayfeather's ears flattened in shock. "I have no desire to be saved by you, or any cat! I care for myself!"

Jayfeather began to feel anger boil in his own belly, and he curled his lips angrily. "Oh yeah?! And running head first into a stream was your brilliant idea of 'taking care' of yourself?! You have an amazing sense of self preservation, don't you?"

The she-cat hissed in retaliation. "What I do is none of your business!"

"It is when you do it on Clan territory!"

"Enough!" The yowl came from the entrance of the den, and Jayfeather backed away from the stranger.

"I apologize, Bramblestar. The stranger attacked Sandstorm without reason."

"Without reason?!" The stranger sounded appalled. "What would you do if you woke up to strange cats?! I doubt you'd hesitate long enough to find out why!"

"Enough!", Bramblestar yowled again, and Jayfeather felt the stranger's fear heighten. Bramblestar then padded toward Sandstorm. "Are you hurt, Sandstorm?"

"Only a scratch," the she-cat meowed softly.

Jayfeather sniffed smugly at the stranger, and he felt her glare ruffle his pelt.

Bramblestar then returned to speak to the stranger. "Attacking a cat is not how you repay-."

"I didn't know anything!," the stranger protested. "I woke up in a strange place after believing I had died, only to find I had not."

Bramblestar sniffed. "That gives you no right-!"

"To attack? You're telling me that you would never do _anything_ like that," the stranger hissed, and he heard her tail rub roughly against the wall if the den.

"We could've left you to die, be grateful, you mousebrained kit!"

Jayfeather felt the anger of the stranger rise again. "I am no kit! How many times must I meow it before you mousebrains figure it out?!"

Jayfeather knew she'd have her ears ripped off for sure now. He shook his head in dismay. The cat was a danger that was for sure. Bramblestar could never allow her to stay in the Clan when she could harm any of the cats there.

He heard Bramblestar sigh, and heard him meow to Sandstorm. "Get Squirrelflight and ask her to meet me at my den. I need to make a decision."

He heard Sandstorm murmur agreement, and both she and Bramblestar left the den. Leafpool moved from where Sandstorm had been and stood next to Jayfeather. She was a lot calmer than all the others, and Jayfeather knew if there was any cat going to calm the stranger, it was her.

"I understand you are not a kit," Leafpool meowed at last to the small she-cat. "But we know nothing of you, in any case. I feel as if you owe us a thank you, for saving your life. But in the end, it is your choice on how you'll take it. We can't force you to accept the help we've given you."

"I didn't ask for your help," the stranger replied, her voice shaky, but a lot calmer.

"I know," Leafpool meowed gently. "But no cat could have left you to die. It would have been cruel."

The stranger said nothing, but Jayfeather could feel unease prickle the air from the she-cat. Leafpool stepped closer, and Jayfeather blinked in alarm. The cat made no move to it.

"All we ask you for, young one; is your name. So no one has to call you kit. Can you at least tell me that? And why you were on WindClan territory?"

The stranger hesitated a moment, before letting out a sigh. "I don't know where I am, or how I ended up here. Well, I do, in some way. I travelled for a moon, from a home that was not my home. To escape things, things you weird cats do not need to know. I don't know what these 'Clans' are, or why walking is so bad. All I know is that I'm here for a reason I don't know, and I need to get out of here, before-!" The stranger stopped suddenly, and took a deep breath. Leafpool gasped, and Jayfeather assumed the stranger was looking straight into her eyes. The cat seemed withdrawn, it would shock any cat. "My name is Night. I'm not from a 'Clan', or anything else. All I am is Night."


	15. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14**_

"What do you think of all this, Hollyleaf?"

Hollyleaf's ear twitched and she turned her head to see Ashfur walking to her side. "I don't know, Ashfur. The cat doesn't seem as if she'll do _great _things for the Clan."

Ashfur shook his grey head. "Looks can be deceiving, Hollyleaf." Then he sighed, as he watched the Clan gather beneath the pool they looked through. Hollyleaf turned her steady green gaze toward the tom, and felt guilt spiking in her pelt.

"I'm sorry, Ashfur. I should never have-."

Ashfur quickly shook his head again. "No. It's nothing now, Hollyleaf. The past is the past. And neither of us are punished for it, we're both here in StarClan. All we made were impulsive mistakes. I should never have done what I'd done, my death was my punishment. And your punishment for my death was a guilt that took you away from the Clans. It tore you from your home." He sighed again, and turned his own dark blue eyes to return Hollyleaf's gaze. Then, he looked back in the pool. "We have so much to do for our Clans, now that we can guide them. First, we should warn your brother about Night-."

"I don't think that's a great idea yet."

Both of the cats turned to see Firestar padding up to them. Ashfur leapt to his paws. "Why not?! She could be a huge danger to the Clans! Jayfeather has to know about it!"

The fiery tom shook his head, as he stared down the pool as well. "No, for now it's best to leave it as it is. If she does what she's supposed to, the cat who will be most affected is him."

Hollyleaf's ear twitched as she stared at her grandfather. "How so?"

Firestar turned his green gaze to Hollyleaf, and quickly looked back to the pool. "You're his sister, so telling you would probably end up having a negative result."

Hollyleaf's eyes narrowed and she was about to bite back a retort before Ashfur butted in. "But we're of StarClan now, we all deserve to know of the prophecy and what it foretells. It is unfair to leave her out simply because it implicates her littermate."

Firestar stared at Ashfur a moment, and sighed. "No cat would wish what is going to happen on either of these cats. No cat would want it. But it is time for change in the Clans. And it's up to one who doesn't follow it to change it." He paused when Hollyleaf began to bristle. "Things change, Hollyleaf. There was once a time no cat could imagine living here, where you'd spent your life. In the old forest, we'd all believed leaving was a bad change that would ultimately destroy us. We were wrong, for three kits were born with a power to save us here. Territories are larger here, and we've settled down well. Change is necessary for the future."

Ashfur grimaced, remembering his old home in the forest. He tilted his head. "Why is there change that is necessary now? Shouldn't the cats be allowed to settle after the vicious attack of the place of no stars?"

Firestar snorted, amused. "No. Changing things while the Clans are still unsettled will make things easier, in the end. Now is the best time for her to come. She knows change better than any other."

"I think you'd be fine without change!"

The three cats turned to see two new comers sit along the edge of the clearing. Firestar's tail twitched and he nodded his head in greeting. "Naïve, Day, welcome. Come; see how your daughter is faring."

Hollyleaf glared at the ginger she-cat and the white kit as they padded forward to join them at the pool. The two were odd, nothing at all like the cat that now rested in ThunderClan. Naïve stared down into the pool at her daughter, her fur bristling along her spine. Day, on the other hand, sat comfortably beside Firestar, as if she'd been there many times before.

Ashfur looked at the small white kit for a moment, before speaking. "So, you're the newcomer's sister, right?"

Day stared at Ashfur a moment before she replied. "Yes, I am. Night and I are sisters from the same litter. Much like you and Ferncloud. Sadly, unlike you two, Night despises her dreams of me, hates thinking of me, or even speaking with me. It is sad how death can tear cats apart."

Hollyleaf stopped glaring, and felt sympathy for the young kit. She'd died so young, and now felt the wrath of hatred that was never her fault. She sighed, and watched the young kit turn to Firestar.

"I have news, news you won't enjoy. It has to do with a dream Night has had."

Firestar bent down next to the kit to listen, and she pushed her muzzle next to his ear to murmur gently what she had to tell him. After she finished, Firestar flinched, and flew back in surprise. "There's no way! She's gone!"

Day shook her head gently. "Outside of StraClan's reach, yes. But I believe that her purpose here is unmistakable. Night has something she can do for her, even if neither of them knows it yet."

Firestar's eyes were wide and tormented, and Hollyleaf's tails fluffed up angrily. What could that kit have said that hurt Firestar so much? But Firestar dipped his head to the small kit. "I will go and speak to some other leaders in StarClan. They will want to know." And the fiery tom dashed away from the clearing. Day turned to look at Hollyleaf.

"He doesn't tell you much, does he?"

Hollyleaf shook her head, and she watched the small white kit pad toward her. "Your brother is Jayfeather, isn't he?" She watched Hollyleaf nod before she continued. "A handsome tom, I must say. But Lionblaze is much broader. I'd think if I had to pick it'd be Lionblaze."

Hollyleaf narrowed her eyes, and jumped to her paws angrily. "There is no choice! Jayfeather's a medicine cat! He can never have a mate."

Day blinked sadly at Hollyleaf. "You wish a loveless life on your brother like this?"

Hollyleaf reeled back as if she were clawed. "Of course not! But he- he chose- it's- well… He chose to be a medicine cat! You know he did! He chose the life of not having a mate."

Day shook her head gently. "It wasn't a choice he had to make. It was thrust upon him by StarClan. And he was in love, once. But he left that love far behind him, in a past not even you have seen."

Hollyleaf blinked, startled. "He was… in love?"

Day nodded, and she snorted. "A pity he had to come back to his time, and leave his love in the past. But maybe, with the new changes, even your brother can love."

Hollyleaf's eyes narrowed again, all signs of acceptance fading. "No. One cat's love life is not worth the change of seasons of tradition!"

Day shook her head sadly. "It's already begun, Hollyleaf. The changes are starting. There isn't a cat in the whole world that can stop it now."

Hollyleaf stared down the pool in dismay, just as Naïve was turning to leave it. "Come on, Day. I want to watch over Night from a closer perspective."

"Yes, mother," the kit meowed, and followed the ginger cat out of the clearing.

Ashfur stood beside Hollyleaf again. "I don't think she can do as much as StarClan seems to think she can. She's just a lost soul who stumbled her way into ThunderClan. It doesn't appear as if it'll have much an impact."

_ I'm not so sure_, Hollyleaf thought sourly as she watched Jayfeather pick a piece of fresh kill from the pile and bring it to the small black she-cat in the medicine den. She watched him be greeted with a glare, and watched her argue for a moment over how Jayfeather thought her rations should go. It made her want to hiss in annoyance. _The stupid furball should be grateful she got anything at all!_

* * *

Night ate slowly, wondering why the strange cats would feed her after she'd attacked one of them. But she couldn't bring herself to question them; she was much too hungry to bother. The strange tom who'd argued with her suggested only eating a little for now. It made her angry, but she knew better than to really fight with him with that strange tom ordering them around. He was very intimidating.

She felt bad about attacking the she-cat who lay beside her as she slept. It had been a long time since she'd woken up so warm, and all she'd done to thank the cat was give her a nice scratch. She sighed as she savored the mouthful of prey she was now eating. It was very fresh, much fresher than what she'd eaten in the past moon following the large moor. The last time she'd eaten anything fresh was when she'd caught a mouse before entering the moor. She felt relieved at the taste.

Outside, she heard the murmur of many cats. She was very curious, but felt it better not to show her face for now. She had no idea how many of them would be out for her blood since she'd wounded the cat named Sandstorm.

Beside her, Jayfeather calmly sniffed at the other cat who was in the den. "Are your legs still stiff, Briarlight?"

She heard Briarlight sigh. "It's just the cold, Jayfeather. I'll do extra exercises today before I go out with Brightheart to collect herbs. Though I'm not sure how much she'll get done. Her poor kits will be in her fur all day because Seedpaw and Lilypaw are having their warrior ceremonies today."

Jayfeather purred in amusement. "You're right. She'll need you today more than ever. Alright, go on out and do your exercises. Then you can spend your day collecting herbs, if you want. If Brightheart is too busy, just ask any warrior. Say Jayfeather wants to know. They'll go with you."

Briarlight snorted a laugh. "Yeah, only because they're scared you'll rip their ears off."

Jayfeather purred. "Alright, off with you now!" And Night heard a dragging sound as the strange cat left the den. She sniffed, and tilted her head.

"What's up with her? Why can't she walk?"

Jayfeather turned to her with a hiss. "Is that any of your business, Night?"

Night flinched, but held her ground. "It was only a question. Geez, you testy aren't you?"

Jayfeather felt a growl rising in his throat, but he swallowed it down, and went to the back of his den to grab some herbs. He came back with a few leaves and a couple seeds and laid them in front of Night. "Here, eat these."

Night leaned to sniff them, and then blindly stared at him. "And, how can I trust that you aren't trying to poison me?"

Jayfeather sighed, irritated. "They're to strengthen you up. Mousebrain."

"Oh, strengthening herbs," she meowed quietly, before licking them up. Then, she looked to where she assumed Jayfeather was. "You're a lot like Meek, then."

"Meek?"

"Yes," Night meowed quietly. "He was the healer in a place I stayed. He was the son of another healer, actually. But he was raised by his mother, so he didn't actually know his father. He knew him by name and status, sure, but," Night paused in a yawn before continuing, "he never really met his father till he agreed to take over for him. His father was dying, see, and he needed a cat to take over for him. Not like there was much to take over, anyway. Moony was a useless lump of fur. His son did more than he did."

Jayfeather never replied for a moment, and Night wondered if he was even listening. "Hello, Jayfeather? You alive?"

She heard Jayfeather shake his head. "Yeah. It's just, healers having kits? Isn't that… strange to you?"

Night shrugged. "Dun'no. I was only there a couple of moons. Before that, I'd been alone. It didn't seem odd to any of the other cats. Most of the kits died during leafbare anyway, it's really cold there. Its why having so many kits is more a blessing than not. Moony having kits was his way of providing aid to the unhealthy. His kits were always intended to precede him." Night yawned again, and laid her head gently on her paws. "It sounds odd to you?" she mewed drowsily. It suddenly occurred to her that he may have put something in the herbs to knock her out, but she was too tired to accuse him.

"Well, yes. Here, in the Clans, having kits is against the warrior code if you're a medicine cat."

"Hmmm," Night sighed. "Sounds cruel to me. I hate kits, don't think I'd ever want any myself, but most cats adore them. It is unfair to medicine cats, isn't it," she yawned again, "to deprive them of something even they may desire?"

Jayfeather never replied, and Night decided not to think about it. She began to curl her tail around her paws, and put her nose into her tail.

"Why were you screaming?"

"Hmm?" Night mewed gently, only half awake.

"While you were unconscious, you yowled and screeched over and over. Were you hurting, or was your dream frightening?"

Night didn't know what he was talking about. "I'm not a stranger to pain," she sighed at last. "I've never had night shrieks because of pain." She yawned again. "If it were anything, it'd have been a nightmare. But I can't remember dreaming."

Jayfeather said something else, but Night was too tired to hear. Instead, she slowly slipped into unconsciousness, leaving Jayfeather unanswered to whatever he had asked.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Do you promise to uphold the warrior code, even at the cost of your life?" The loud, demanding voice echoed around the hollow, and Night flinched at the authority. The intimidating cat, whose name she'd learned was Bramblestar, was the leader of ThunderClan. And it made a lot of sense as to why.

"I do!" One of the two apprentices called eagerly, and Night could tell she was ecstatic to become a ThunderClan warrior. She wondered what it would be like, to have something to look forward to. Then she snorted. It was merely a false pretense on what life really was. The other cat, another female, repeated her sister's declaration.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Lilypaw, please step forward."

Night heard the first she-cat squeal excitedly and her feet thundered the ground as she stepped forward. "Lilypaw, from this moment you will be known as Lilytail. StarClan honors your courage and determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

The Clan remained silent as the next cat stepped forward. "Seedpaw, from this moment you will be known as Seedheart. StarClan honors your kindness and forethought, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

"Lilytail, Seedheart, Lilytail, Seedheart!"

Night jumped at the sudden noise, and Jayfeather, who sat beside her, stopped in the middle of his own chanting to snort in amusement. "Scared of a little celebration, Night?"

Night glared beside her, before returning her attention to Bramblestar, who had begun to speak again. "Tonight, our two new warriors will sit a silent vigil over the camp while the rest of us sleep." She heard the cats begin to disperse, some cats meowing about how they'd sleep well tonight without worry of any kind of attack.

Jayfeather climbed to his paws. "Come on, Night. Bramblestar is expecting us."

Night felt the fur on her spine begin to prickle with unease, but she stood gingerly to her paws as Jayfeather began to pad ahead. She quickened her pace to keep up.

He stopped before the wall of the hollow, and sat down. Night sat as well. "He's going to come down here to meet us."

Night blinked in confusion. "Come down?"

"Yes, from his den, which is up in the rock wall."

Night tilted her head to the side. "Why don't we just go up? He doesn't like other cats in his den?"

Jayfeather hesitated. "Well, he does have meetings up there sometimes. But you… Can't trust you yet."

Night didn't believe him, and she twitched her ear in his direction. "Wasn't hard to figure out I'm blind, was it?"

Jayfeather didn't reply for a moment. "No, it wasn't. You did something similar to what I did once."

"You-!" Night cut off, staring blindly at where he was. "You're blind?!"

Jayfeather snorted. "You didn't think you were the only cat in the world who couldn't see, did you?"

Night sniffed, but didn't reply to his question. "Still, what makes you think I can't get up there?"

Jayfeather purred in amusement. "You lack practice. Believe me; I've nearly killed myself dozens of times coming up and down the wall from the leader's den. Not going to let you kill yourself after I used my resources on you. No way in StarClan."

Night's tail twitched irritably. "And I've told you many times, you did not need to use your stupid herbs on me-!"

"At it again, you two?"

Night froze, and turned her head to the direction of Bramblestar's voice. She had been so caught up in arguing with Jayfeather that she hadn't heard or smelled him coming. "Sorry!" Night bowed her head, and she heard Jayfeather snort under his breath.

Bramblestar purred in amusement. "Nah, its time Jayfeather found himself someone worth arguing with. Now, Jayfeather, was your speculation correct or…?"

"I was correct. She is blind."

Night narrowed her eyes at his voice. "If you really wanted to know, you could've asked. I wouldn't have ripped you to shreds, anyway."

Jayfeather snorted again. "Only because you suck at it."

Night sniffed again, and turned to Bramblestar. "Anything you want to ask me, go ahead. I'd much prefer answering questions then having some mousebrained herb maker spy on me."

She heard a low growl come from Jayfeather's throat, but she ignored it as she continued to stare unseeingly at the intimidating leader.

"Well," Bramblestar murmured. "How about where you come from? How you got here? Why you came here? You're young, where is your family?"

Night took a deep breath. "I have no idea where I come from. Only that a far ways from here I stayed in an abandoned twoleg town. How I got here? I walked, blindly, obviously. I nearly died of starvation countless times. Why? I don't know. Only that I felt I wanted to be somewhere else than where I was. Family? Got none. Answer all your questions?"

Jayfeather sucked in a breath beside her, and Bramblestar hesitated. "What do you mean no family?"

"They're dead," Night replied simply. "Don't assume I killed them, either. I may have disliked my mother, but she did keep my sister and me alive, and my sister adored her. Not that it matters, she's dead. Both of them are gone, and I never knew my father, so I'm a fatherless cat, too. Fern is the closest thing I've had to a mother, but she's not, and I left her at the abandoned twoleg town with her brother, kits, Meek, and lots of other cats, so my being gone isn't going to harm her."

Bramblestar let out a sympathetic breath, and Night felt chilled all the way to her bones. "I don't want sympathy. I want solitude. I want to be alone with myself, and no one else. All others are is a thorn in the side, wanting this, needing that. Oh, love me! Feed me! Groom me! Talk to me! Bleh! Don't need it. So, I'll leave whenever you need me to. I know I'm probably not of much strength now, but if you don't want my presence here I can leave whenever. I have no intention of staying, anyway."

She felt Jayfeather's fur bristling beside her, and Bramblestar was silent as if he were thinking. "Night," he said at last. "What if we wanted you to stay?"

The sound of kits entered Night's ears and she flinched, her ears prickling. "No. I hate kits. I could never stay where they lived. I also hate company. I hate being spoken to, or cared for. I hate caring for others. Being here would be a disadvantage to us both."

"You'll die alone!" Jayfeather growled beside her, and the warning hiss Bramblestar made changed nothing. "You have proof of that. You're lucky to be alive. StarClan must want her here. Bramblestar, StarClan has warned me of a change. Maybe this is the change. Maybe this is StarClan's way of giving us strength as leafbare approaches!"

"Strength indeed," Night hissed under her breath, and then rounded on Jayfeather. "Whoever this StarClan is has nothing to do with me! I know nothing about them!"

"Ever dream of cats you don't know, or of family you lost?!"

"Of course!" Night hissed. "My mind has created false images of my mother and sister. Images of my mother bathing my sister while ignoring me. That's nothing special."

"And yet you can see in your dreams?"

"Yes," Night meowed. "I dream of things I've already seen, before I lost my sight when I was a moon or two old." She took a deep breath. "I was born a little past the middle of leafbare. It was cold. My mother was attacked by a fox, my sister starved. I struggled to survive to greenleaf, and ate what I could find, before being taught to hunt in the abandoned twoleg town by Meek. After I left and found myself on a never-ending moor, I began to starve because catching rabbits is much harder than catching a mouse. There you have it, my life story. I only dream of leafbare snow, and my newborn sister and mother."

Jayfeather took a deep breath, but had nothing to say. Instead, he sunk down on his haunches. Bramblestar murmured something to Jayfeather before speaking with Night again. "I think Jayfeather is right, though. StarClan could have had your mother and sister help lead you here. And I can't excuse something a medicine cat tells me. If he believes StarClan brought you here, I have to believe him. So, I will leave the choice of whether you stay or go to Jayfeather. I won't condone forcing you to stay, but if Jayfeather says you have to, then we may have to force."

Night's fur began to bristle angrily, and Jayfeather muttered his ascent beside her. She turned to glare at him, but he ignored her.

"I believe she has to stay, Bramblestar. StarClan has warned me of a change, it could be negative or positive, and I believe strongly that this cat is a part of it. If we let her go, the change could be very negative. I think, if we can get her to like it here,-."

"Not a chance!" She hissed, her anger boiling over. She jumped to her paws. "I refuse to listen to you and your stupid mousebrains! A Clan of dead cats?! As if! I don't believe any of the nonsense spewing from your muzzles! And you can't force me to stay!"

"We can as a prisoner," Bramblestar meowed darkly. "And if Jayfeather thinks it's what we should do, then it's what we will do. I am sorry, Night, but my decision is final. Jayfeather, bring her back to the medicine cat den. I will talk to Squirrelflight about arranging an around the clock guard. Please let what you're telling me be true and that I'm not doing something I will regret."

Night was about to hiss that he certainly would regret it, but Jayfeather cut her off with a shove. "I'm pretty certain about this, Bramblestar. If not, all the consequences will be mine to bear. Thank you." And Night felt a gently prodding urging her forward. She hissed, but began to pad in the direction they'd come anyway. No point in fighting it.

* * *

Night opened her eyes, but she knew she wasn't awake. The same cold smell from several nights before entered her nose, and she jumped to her paws. Not again! She thought, blinking rapidly. Suddenly, the same tortoiseshell she-cat appeared before her, blood splattered across her fur. Night flinched in disgust. "Spottedleaf!" She hissed indignantly. "Why am I here again?!"

The tortoiseshell dipped her head. "Night, right? It is great to see you again."

Night's fur pricked nervously, and she hissed. "No, not great! Where is this place?! Why do I keep coming here? Why are you here?"

Spottedleaf shook her head. "I don't have many answers, young one. I have no idea why you come to see me. I told you before, I should not exist. I was a StarClan warrior, a cat who was already dead. I was murdered again in a battle against the Clans, StarClan, and the Dark forest. I should have been erased from existence. But when I opened my eyes, I was here. I've scented others, but have not seen them. This place… it's so much like the Dark Forest, except the smell. This isn't a forest. It smells like… crowfood, and death. There's no smell of plants. I…"

Night could feel Spottedleaf's terror in the thick, stinky air, and she flinched. "I've found the Clans, Spottedleaf. Jayfeather thinks StarClan sent me there, that they sent him a prophecy of change."

Spottedleaf's terror slowly faded, and she padded closer to Night. "A prophecy?" Her meow was quiet, longing. She stared at Night desperately with her amber eyes. "You could stay with the Clan, right? Oh, I miss them! You could come every night and tell me what's happening with them, and maybe I can help you find out your prophecy! That would be excellent!" She paused, blinking gently. "You would be with ThunderClan, right? That's my old Clan. The other Clans wouldn't take in a poor blind cat who nearly died. ThunderClan is caring for you, right?"

Night's fur bristled at the term 'care' but she nodded gently. The poor cat, who seemed completely kind, was stuck in a world that would hurt her. Night felt sorry for the cat, and took a small breath with her mouth, avoiding use with her nose as much as possible. "I can. I can tell you what's going on. I don't have much choice on leaving, anyway. Bramblestar decreed that I must stay because of the change Jayfeather spoke of. So, what do you want to know?"

Spottedleaf hesitated, closing her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them again, they were calm, content, and filled with kindness. It shocked Night to see a cat who looked ready to jump out of her fur turn into a cat who looked wise. It was how she'd always wanted her mother to be.

"Have you met Sandstorm? How is she, since her mate died?"

Night flinched at the name, but took a deep breath. "She's ok. She was kind to me when I nearly drowned. I clawed her accidentally. I didn't know where I was and a strange cat… you understand, right?"

Spottedleaf nodded. "Yes, of course. I can feel your honesty." Then, she began to spew off more and more questions; some Night had difficulty answering because she hadn't been there long enough. She asked how Bramblestar's leadership was going, who is deputy was. Had Leafpool decided to be a medicine cat again? What had become of Jayfeather's siblings? Was the prey plentiful? Was it greenleaf, leaffall, leafbare, or newleaf now? The questions went on and on until Night was exhausted.

"I'm sorry, Spottedleaf, I can't answer any more."

Spottedleaf stopped, and hung her head. "It's time for you to wake up, then. Visit me when you can, please, young Night. Next time, you can ask me questions!"


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Night sighed as she stretched, the warm sun warming her pelt in the cold day of leaffall. It was a great time for sunning herself, she decided. Most cats were out collecting prey, doing border patrols, or whatever else the warriors did. Even the kits were out playing, though that unnerved her more than anything else that had happened as of late.

It seemed that the majority of the squealing kits had relation to Jayfeather, seeing as their father was his brother. Jayfeather had no trouble with the tiny things, though, and he entertained them graciously whenever they came to the den. Especially the little Morningkit, who nosed curiously through Jayfeather's herbs, and was even figuring out what was what.

Morningkit was the only one of the kits that Night could stomach. She wasn't a loud one, she was calmer. She played loudly, but was very serious when playtime was over. She never even imagined the idea of harassing Night, the way the other kits had. Firekit was always the worst of them, always attacking Night's tail mischievously and begging Morningkit to join in.

Jayfeather once told Night how he'd intended on having Morningkit as his apprentice, if Leafpool didn't return to medicine cat duties. But Night wasn't so sure Morningkit stood a chance, with the way Leafpool strayed anxiously inside the den now-a-days, fussing over Briarlight as the cold weather really started to settle in.

Her two guards, Brackenfur and Thornclaw were murmuring something to one another, but Night was too cozy to try to listen in. It had been a half moon since she'd nearly drowned, and already Clan life was making sense to her. She listened carefully, so when she visited Spottedleaf in her dreams she could tell her all of the stuff happening in the Clans. Outside of that, Night paid no mind. Her guards never tormented her, the kits were always held off by Lionblaze, and the weather was sunny and warm through the days.

She heard from Jayfeather that that night there was a gathering. When she'd asked Spottedleaf about it, she'd been told it was when the Clans meet together under the truce and share news. Night thought it pointless, but said nothing.

Night had been disappointed to hear nothing more of Jayfeather's prophecy, but she told Spottedleaf about what she did know, including the dream she'd had where her mother had told her not to go to the Clans, telling her that her destiny would only harm her.

But Spottedleaf knew about as much as she did, and both cats turned to talking about the Clan and themselves instead. Night had to admit Spottedleaf was a great cat to talk to. She'd never been open about things the way she was with Spottedleaf for a long time. She wasn't spewing honesty because she was angry, but because she felt she could really rely on her.

Night yawned, the warmth making her sleepy. She didn't move much lately, so she feared she was probably gaining weight. But it wasn't like she chose it, they_ were_ guarding her. _I guess it's too late to tell them I've decided to stay, anyway_, she mused, sniffing the air gently for the return of any of the patrols. She could hear none of them in the distance, and she felt relieved. Bramblestar had ordered that warriors and apprentices spend the day preparing for leafbare, which meant adding materials to dens to keep them warm, collecting fresh kill so that they had a stock stored, and freshening up the borders. Though Night had no idea what border patrols would really do for the preparation, it wasn't anything different then what they did in warmer seasons.

The kits were squealing at the other end of the clearing, and Night grunted in irritation. She placed her paws over her ears, hoping to drown them out. Other cats her age, like Amberpaw, doted over the kits, like every other cat in the Clan. Night still didn't understand the fascination, but she chose not to ask. She didn't even ask Spottedleaf.

"Having a lazy day, Night?"

Night twitched her ears in greeting, and she felt a mouse being dropped at her forepaws. She lifted her head to nod gratefully before beginning to eat the prey. Jayfeather sat beside her and began to eat as well.

"You know, a lot of the Clan is upset."

Night licked her lips as she finished off the mouse, and she sat up to reply. "Upset? Upset about what? I heard some murmurs about me. Are they upset that I'm eating all their prey? Poor babies."

Jayfeather sighed. "It's not like they know why you're being kept here, and it makes them angry that Bramblestar even considered it. It's especially worse because we're actually taking up warriors to make sure you don't leave."

Night shrugged. "Then stop guarding me. It's not like I can run. I'd have no clue where I was going. For all I know, I could run into the lake again."

She heard rustling, and assumed Jayfeather was shaking his head. "You don't understand-."

"About a great change that's coming that you think I'm involved in somehow? Why do you think I am, anyway? Because I appeared out of nowhere?"

"No," Jayfeather meowed cautiously. "It's nothing like that. I just got the prophecy, then you came. It's that simple."

"And what is the prophecy," Night meowed patiently, sniffing the air again.

"I already told you what it's about. Isn't that enough?"

"No, not really," she meowed, before climbing to her paws. "But its fine, I could care less about it. All I know is that a prophecy about me is a foolish idea of a mousebrained cat who believes the dea live on." But I believe in it too, Night thought guiltily as she walked toward her guards. They made no move to attack her as she sauntered forward. "I'm going back to the den for a nap. I won't wake up and run for it, so feel free to nap as well." And she turned back toward the den, before stopping beside Jayfeather.

"My mother hates destiny, no matter what the turn out may be. She believes a cat makes their own decisions in life, and there is no path telling them which direction to go. Life is about mistakes, and learning from them. If I were to make a decision, it would be to leave the Clan the way it is. It functions fine now," she meowed, and continued her way into the den for her afternoon nap.

* * *

"So, all he's told you was he believes you will bring about a change?"

"Yes," Night sighed, staring at the Tortoiseshell she-cat as her amber eyes lit up. She felt unease spike through her fur, and look cautiously at the slender she-cat. "What is it?"

"He specifically said he thought it was you, because he said a cat was coming to bring about the change! If he thinks it's you, they must have been specific about something. Fur color? Gender? Sight ability? But there has to be something about you that has his fur on end, and we just have to figure out what it is!" She hesitated, and her eyes squinted at Night. "It can't be your fur color, there's dozens of black cats in the world. If it were gender specific, it would've mentioned a unique trait you have, unlike any other. Hmmm…"

Night shrugged. "He knows about my lousy past. Could that be something?"

Spottedleaf shrugged. "They don't normally mention something about the cat's past in a prophecy. But if the cat is meant to dictate a new future, then it is quite possible the prophecies have changed. Or I could just be forgetting what the prophecies sounded like. It feels like I've been here for many seasons, when I've only been here for 8 moons."

That's right, Night thought sadly. When you were pulled into this unforgiving world of the dead, I was losing my sight. It makes me look terrible for complaining about my problems, when yours were so much worse. Night sighed, and slumped down on her belly. "I don't know anymore, but I doubt I'm really the cat."

Spottedleaf shook her head. "No, you're special," she meowed, and Night lifted her head to meet the pretty cat's gaze. "You found me, where no cat can find anything, without even trying. Maybe you are meant to save me- No, I don't mean to make expectations of you. But the change could be bringing me back again, allowing those who were cast here like me during the terrible battle a chance at starting over."

Night said nothing to dampen her optimism. She placed her head on her paws again. "The gathering should be starting soon. Shall I leave and sleep again once I find out what has happened when it's over?"

Spottedleaf nodded eagerly. "Yes, that'd be great! I'd love to find out how well Bramblestar shares the wonderful news of ThunderClan." Night didn't have the heart to tell Spottedleaf that she wasn't actually going to the gathering, so she dipped her head in farewell. "I will see you later."

Spottedleaf returned the greeting, and she slowly began to fade from her vision.

* * *

When Night woke, the cats were already gone for the gathering. Outside, Dovewing and Dewpaw were guarding. Night found it odd to be guarded by an apprentice, but made no remark as she came out to join them. She heard Dewpaw hiss, but Dovewing quickly silenced him. "How was your nap, Night?" Dovewing asked quietly.

"Fine," Night replied. She sniffed the clearing, and realized the sun had long since set. There was no mewling of kits; they must've gone to their nests. She sighed, feeling the cool leaffall breeze ruffle her whiskers. Around her the camp felt empty somehow, and for the first time it made her uneasy. For a long time, Night hadn't felt the burning desire to be around others.

Dewpaw began to murmur anxiously to Dovewing, not knowing the Night could pick out everything he'd said. Her hearing was quite sharp.

"I don't get why we have to keep this crowfood eater around anyway. She will never be of use to ThunderClan! Why doesn't Bramblestar just let her leave?"

Night didn't try to hear Dovewing's response. She could care less what the other cats thought of her, especially the younger ones. She sat down and sniffed again, and breathed longingly as she smelt the forest somewhere beyond. She loved the forest, where hunting was easy. But she was confined to the camp surrounded by sheer rock face. The only trees she could smell clearly were the ones that had fallen into the clearing moons before she'd arrived.

"So, Night, what brings you to the lake?"

Night didn't snort at the stupid question, just shrugged her shoulders. "Got lost."

She heard Dewpaw snort, and mutter about her being ungrateful, but Night chose to ignore him as Dovewing replied.

"Well, wherever you're from, you're probably destined to be here. At least, that's what I chose to believe."

She heard the ruffling of fur and could smell Dewpaw's surprise and agitation in the air. Night felt like scoffing at him in amusement, but chose against it, and began to address Dovewing completely. "I don't believe in destiny. There is nothing telling me to do something. I choose what I do. Just as I had chosen to go on a journey to get myself lost. I've never had reason to worry for my safety."

"I think you're just a lost soul who has to find her way. Maybe we could help you, while you stay here. After all, that's what Firestar would've wanted."

Night decided against asking who Firestar was, and had no reason to reply as she began to hear the approach of many cats. She leapt to her paws, and she heard the two guards scramble up as well. She sniffed the air. "They're almost back. And it smells like trouble."


End file.
